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MEMOIRS 


OF 

ANDREW SHERBURNE: 

ft 

A PENSIONER 


OF THE 




WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 


“ They that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in 
great waters ; they see the works of the LORD, and hit wonders 
in the deep.”— Psalmist. 


SECOND EDITION, 

Enlarged and improved. 




Dcobitrencc: 

J. H. BROWN....MARKET-SQUARE 









HI 2 , 7 / 

.O 5*3£T 
Co 







Northern District of New-York, to wit: 

' BE IT REMEMBERED; That on the twenty-sixth day of Au¬ 
gust, in the fifty-third year of the Independence of the United 
States of America, A. D. 1828, Andrew Sherburne, of the said 
district, hath deposited in this office the title of a book, the right 
whereof he claims as author, in the words following, to wit; 

Memoirs of Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the 
revolution. Written by himself. “ They that go down to the sea 
in ships, that do business in great waters ; they see the works of 
the LORD, and his wonders in the deep.” Psalmist. 

In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, 
entitled, “An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing 
the copies of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprie¬ 
tors of such copies, during the times therein mentioned and 
also, to the act entitled, “An act supplementary to an act entitled 
‘An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies 
of Maps, Charts, and Books to the authors and proprietors of such 
copies during the times therein mentioned,’ and extending the 
benefits thereof to the arts of Designing, Engraving and Etching 
historical and other prints.” 

RICHARD 11. LANSING, 

Clerk of the District Court of the United States, for the 
Northern District of New-Yurk. 




PREFACE. 


There are yet surviving a few, and but a 
few, who lived, acted and suffered in the Rev¬ 
olution which gave freedom, independence 
and prosperity to the United States of Amer¬ 
ica. And a very large majority of that few 
have gone by three score years and ten . They 
are bending beneath the weight of years and 
early sufferings. 

Their thin locks are whitened by the frosts 
of seventy, and some by more than eighty 
winters, and are “ dragging the poor remains 
of life along the tiresome road.” A few of 
them are in affluent circumstances—others 
are sustained by their children and friends— 
some are partially provided for by govern¬ 
ment, and some are in indigent circumstan¬ 
ces. 

But the number is very fast diminishing; a 
little while and the American people will 
look round in vain to find an individual who 
personally acted in the Revolution. The au¬ 
thor of this narrative is in the junior class of 
the survivors of the Revolution, as he was 
only ten years of age when the conflict be¬ 
gan, and entered the naval service, at the 
age of thirteen. The complicated charac¬ 
ter of his trials, and sufferings in the United 
States navy—his capture—and forcible de¬ 
tention in the British navy—shipwreck and 


IV 


PREFACE. 


sufferings in a wilderness in Newfoundland, 
in prison ships and hospital ships, were almost 
unparalleled. 

Many years since he was solicited by gen¬ 
tlemen of literature and taste, to give his nar¬ 
rative to the public; but his limited educa¬ 
tion, diffidence of his own abilities to write, 
and in a word his poverty and shattered con¬ 
stitution, rendered the thought so appalling, 
that he shrank from the task. It was never¬ 
theless his intention (if he could find time 
before death should call for him) to leave 
in manuscript some detail of his extraordi¬ 
nary conflicts, and especially of the marvel¬ 
ous interpositions of the Lord of Sabbaoth in 
preserving his life amidst distresses, dan¬ 
gers, and death, and giving him a l>ope ol 
eternal life and immortal glory through the 
merits of Jesus Christ. 

It is aptly expressed that “ Procrastina¬ 
tion is the thief of time.” More than three 
score years passed away before he commenc¬ 
ed the task; nor then, until the thought oc¬ 
curred that he might realize some emolu¬ 
ments by its publication, the prominent 
object, doubtless, of most authors. 

He was at the same time aware of the 
apparent indelicacy of a person’s publishing 
his auto-biography. Such a thought proba¬ 
bly would be revolting to some persons of 
virtue and refined taste, while possessing 
.competence, who, if reduced to poverty, 


PREFACE. 


V 


with a dependant and helpless family, would 
dispense with their (possibly) false delicacy, 
for necessity has no law. 

Anterior to publishing his first edition, he 
was confident that there were thousands of 
citizens who would most cheerfully patronize 
his work. It had been his hard fortune, in 
the war of the Revolution, to become a cap¬ 
tive three times, and each time to travel home 
an absolute beggar. 

In his anticipations he has not been disap¬ 
pointed. Numerous gentlemen and ladies 
have bought and read his book, and have 
paid him so much of a compliment as to say, 
that they considered it an interesting narra¬ 
tive, and well deserving patronage. It has 
introduced him to many families of distinc¬ 
tion, and procured for him many affectionate 
and warm-hearted friends among strangers. 

Those gratuitous tokens and expressions 
of friendship, together with the sympathies 
exhibited, have gone far to revive his droop¬ 
ing spirits, while buffeting, in advanced life, 
the inclemencies of three tedious winters, 
far distant from his family. 

He is at a loss for language to express his 
grateful sense of obligations to those ladies 
and gentlemen who have patronized his first 
edition. He can only say, that it has been, 
is now, and shall be his prayer to God, that 
(hey and theirs may never want any good 
thing. And most fervently does he pray 
l* 


VI 


PREFACE. 


that the Americans as a nation may properly 
appreciate the freedom which they enjoy, 
while they learn the price of its purchase, 
and that they may be a virtuous, united 
and happy people, sustained and protected 
by the arm of Omnipotence. 

In disposing of his first edition, the author 
has travelled South into the State of Virgin¬ 
ia, East to Maine, and West to Ohio. To 
his second edition he has added the most 
interesting events of the last three years of 
his life, in these long journeys ; and now 
presents the public with this edition, be¬ 
ing confident that as yet he has offered his 
little book to but few of those patriotic citi¬ 
zens who would most freely patronize the 
work. 

As in the providence of God, the Author 
has been denied the advantages of an edu¬ 
cation, he makes no pretensions to elegance 
of style or diction ; but with all due defer¬ 
ence submits his humble performance to the 
public. 

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 

Augusta, Oneida County , N. Y. March , 1831 . 


CERTIFICATES. 


—em— 

Whereas the Rev. Andrew Sherburne, our worthy 
brother and fellow-laborer in the gospel, contemplates 
making a journey, with his family, to remove into the 
south western regions of this country, to reside; in order 
that he may meet with that reception among Christians, 
to which his character and office entitle him; the under¬ 
signed beg leave to represent, that he has for fifteen 
years past maintained a respectable standing in the 
New-Iiampshire Baptist Association, as pastor of the 
Baptist church in Arundel; and as far as our information 
extends, is deemed faithful and well established in doc¬ 
trine, whom we esteem highly in love, as a Christian 
brother and a minister of Christ; and as such, we would 
recommend him to all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in 
sincerity. 

SIMON LOCK, 
Pastor of the church in Lyman. 
ABNER FLANDERS, 
Pastor of the Baptist church in Burton. 

JOSHUA ROBERTS, 

Pastor of the Baptist church in East parish of Wells. 

TIMOTHY HUDSON, 
Pastor of the church in Hollis. 

Hollis, August 21st, 1818. 


This and the three following Certificates were given to the Au¬ 
thor, while on his journey from the State of Ohio to Maine. 
Washington city,House of Representatives , Feb. 28,1823. 

The Rev. Andrew Sherburne, the bearer of this, is wor¬ 
thy the confidence of the friends of Zion, and esteem of 
his fellow-citizens generally. Twenty years acquain¬ 
tance, has proved him an undeviating friend. I most cor¬ 
dially sympathize with him in his troubles, having per¬ 
formed those services in the revolutionary war, which 
entitle him to respect. 

MARK HARRIS. 



vlii 


CERTIFICATES. 


TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. 

The subscriber has seen the credentials of the Rev# 
Andrew Sherburne, and has, otherwise, had an opportu¬ 
nity of becoming acquainted with his character. He be¬ 
lieves Mr. Sherburne to be a brother deserving the affec¬ 
tionate and respectful regards of the churches. Mr. S. 
will, himself communicate the story of his sufferings du¬ 
ring the revolutionary war, and his subsequent toils in 
the service of his country. His necessities are real and 
imperious, and it is hoped the patriot and the Christian 
will alike contribute to his assistance. 

WM. 8TAUGIITON. 
Philadelphia , April 11, 1823. 


Having seen the Rev. Mr. Sherburne’s, testimonials, 
and being personally and fully satisfied with his piety 
and good character, I do most cordially coincide with 
the Rev. Dr. Staughton in the foregoing certificate and 
just recommendation. 

WM. ROGERS. 

Philadelphia, April 15, 1823. 


I cheerfully add my testimony in favor of the Rev. 
Mr. Sherburne’s character to the foregoing, and recom¬ 
mend him to the charitable consideration of the opulent 
and benevolent. 

JEDEDIAH MORSE. 
New Haven , Jane 12, 1823. 


MEMOIRS OF ANDREW SHERBURNE. 

“ I have attentively perused the ‘ Memoirs of Andrew 
Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Revolution.’ 
Publications of this description, though they may not 
challenge admiration by elegance of style or diction, still 
deserve the notice of Americans. 

The aGtors in our Revolutionary struggle, have, with 
a few exceptions, gone 1 the way of all the earth.’ Many 
interesting details relative to the period that ( tried men’s 
souls,’ must necessarily perish with those who witnessed 
them. An attempt to preserve from oblivion, facts which 
show the interposition of the Lord of Sabbaoth, in favor 





CERTIFICATE.*:. 


IX 


of the oppressed, and the unconquerable firmness of 
those who fought in the great cause of freedom and of 
man, cannot be uninteresting to the pious and the free. 
1 recommend the work to the perusal of our citizens, and 
its aged, war-worn author to the kindness of all who be¬ 
lieve that a debt of gratitude is still due to the veterans 
of the Revolution. 

N. N. WHITING, 
Pastor of the Baptist church, Vernon. 

Vernon, Aug. 5, 1828. 

I have read the above work with considerable interest. 
The author has written in a spirit of moderation and pie¬ 
ty worthy of imitation. 

I consider Mr. Sherburne and his work, as entitled to 
the patronage of all Americans. 

N. WILLIAMS, 

Judge of the Circuit Court , State N. Y. 

Utica, Nov. 12, 1828. 


We fully concur in the opinion above expressed by 
Mr. Whiting and Judge Williams, and most cheerfully 
recommend the work to the patronage of a liberal and 
enlightened public. 

S. C. AIKIN, 

Pastor of the first Pres, church , Utica. 
WILLIAM WILLIAMS. 

The following editorial notice of this work appeared in tl/e 
New-York Baptist Register, conducted by A. M. Beebee, Es<j. on 
the 7th November, 1828, which may be recorded as the fair ex¬ 
pression of those who have read the book. 

u We have read with deep interest £ The Memoirs of 
Andrew Sherburne, a pensioner of the navy of the Rev¬ 
olution,’ published by William Williams, Utica, and re¬ 
commend it to the patronage of the community. It is the 
plain and simple narration of the life of one who commenc¬ 
ed while a youth, in our Revolutionary struggle, and en¬ 
dured with the fortitude ofa man, most extraordinary'per¬ 
ils and sufferings, displaying a purity of patriotism to be 
admired, even in a veteran. Its interest is not a little 





X 


CERTIFICATES. 


enhanced, from the circumstance of the author having 
been, not only a Revolutionary hero, but subsequently a 
Christian, and also a Christian minister. Private indi¬ 
viduals are overlooked in the glare of attraction which 
surrounds the great. The officers and great men, who 
have figured in contests for national glory, give you in 
a general mass only, the privates whose labors have se¬ 
cured their fame, while those who have commanded in 
the fight, have been individually selected for the laurel. 
Those who have shared in doing and suffering for their 
country, deserve grateful recollections. But few, in 
common rank, have told the history of either. Humility 
on the one hand, and stinted acquirements on the other, 
have disqualified them for the task. In the present in¬ 
stance, however, we are presented with the Memoirs of 
one in an humble station, during the trying period of 
America’s strife, who acquired the ability to write the 
history of his woes, while a captive for his country in Mill 
prison, in England. The narration, though unpretend¬ 
ing, is marked with much good sense, and purity of style; 
and the incidents which it unfolds cannot fail to interest 
every true American, and also all such as love the gospel 
of Christ. The price of the work is one dollar, and who, 
that has the sum to spare, would not cheerfully pay it to 
relieve the declining years of a veteran of the Revolu¬ 
tion ?” 


The following editorial notice of the above named work, is from 
the Utica Intelligencer of 7th October, 1828, by E. S. Ely, Esq. 

“ M e have been much pleased in the perusal of a part 
ol the volume with the above title. The style is easy 
and familiar, and the narration contains a circumstantial 
account of several voyages made during the interesting 
period of the Revolution, the writer’s treatment when 
confined in Mill prison, at Plymouth, in England, and 
his sufferings on board the Jersey prison ship, from which 
he was discharged at the peace of 17853 . Mr. Sher¬ 
burne has been for a number of years a reputable minis¬ 
ter of the Baptist church. He is a pensioner, and of 
course in circumstances far from affluent, and we hope 
his book will be patronized, not only as an entertaining 



CERTIFICATES. 


xi 


auto-biography, abounding with uncommon incidents, 
but from regard to one whose services and pecuniary 
circumstances recommend him to favor.” 

The following communication was designed to have a place 
among the recommendations of the work spoken of in it; and 
though not received in time for that purpose, we think proper, 
even now, to lay it before the public. 

Mr. Wm. Williams, 

SIR—Understanding that you are about to publish 
the Life of Rev. Andrew Sherburne, written by himself, 
I think it my duty to communicate to you some of my 
thoughts respecting the work. 

When Mr. Sherburne first consulted me on the expe¬ 
diency of having it published, 1 felt apprehensive that 
it would be unsaleable, and occasion to him, rather a bur¬ 
then than a benefit; and consequently dissuaded him 
from the undertaking. He urged me to look into the 
manuscript. Reluctantly I complied; and had read but 
a few pages, when my attention became fixed, and I re¬ 
gretted that I had not time to read it through before he 
called for it. I read, however, the account of his ad¬ 
ventures and sufferings during the Revolutionary War, 
to the time of his release from confinement on board the 
Jersey. My opinion on the expediency of printing it 
became decidedly reversed. I am persuaded that, if 
published, it will be perused and read with great avidity 
by various classes of American citizens. It gives a more 
circumstantial detail of the sufferings and deliverances of 
our naval prisoners, during the Revolutionary conflict, 
than I have seen in any other book, and in connexion 
therewith serves greatly to illustrate the minute and won¬ 
derful operations of Divine Providence. Upon the whole, 
though in a plain style, it is a very interesting story; 
and exhibits a character, in several respects extraor¬ 
dinary. 

Wherefore, as the author is now old and poor, and 
has a dependant family, I do most cordially wish that the 
book may be published, and that it may receive deserved 
patronage; which will, in some measure, remunerate 
his past toils, and supply his present wants. Indeed, 



XU 


CERTIFICATES. 


whether his youthful and faithful services in the cause 
of his country, be recollected, or whether he be consid¬ 
ered as an aged and needy disciple and minister of 
Christ, where is the American patriot or the sympathet¬ 
ic Christian , that would refuse to give a dollar for a 
copy of his book ? 

Respectfully yours, 

WILLIAM PARKINSON, 
Pastor of first Baptist church , N. York. 

New-York, July 12, 1827. 

From my personal acquaintance with Rev. Mr. Sher¬ 
burne, and from the interesting character of his biog¬ 
raphy, as lar as opportunity has been afforded to peruse 
the M. S. I do most cordially unite in the preceding 
recommendation. 

SPENCER H. CONE, 
Pastor of Oliver-strect Baptsit churchy N. York. 



MEMOIRS 


OF 

ANDREW SHERBURNE. 

-^OS- 

CHAPTER L 

The Author's birth and parentage—at the age of sei'en 
years left his father's house — Londonderry — Mrs. 
Bell , an Irish Presbyterian lady-—her piety—the Au¬ 
thor's first religious impressions through her instruc¬ 
tions—public excitement at the commencement of the 
revolution—^the Author's first cruise on board the 
Ranger , at the age of thirteen. 

My ancestors, both on my father’s and mother’s side, 
Were from England. My father could trace hi spedigree 
back to one of the earliest settlers of Portsmouth, New 
Hampshire. Within my remembrance many persons of 
the name of Sherburne, were inhabitants of Portsmouth, 
and especially ofthe plain,called Sherburne’s plain. The 
only family, however, now on the plain, is that of Capt. 
Joseph Sherburne, my uncle’s son. He is of the sixth 
or seventh generation of that name who have held the 
same farm in succession. My father, Andrew Sher¬ 
burne, was the son of Deacon John Sherburne, of Ports¬ 
mouth, My mother was Susannah Knight, the eldest 
daughter of George Knight, of Kittery, Maine. He died 
at Cape Breton, in Sir William Pepperell’s expedition, 
in the year 1745, leaving three infant daughters, Susan¬ 
nah, my mother, Mary, who became the wife of Capt. 
Joseph Green, and Elizabeth, married to Capt. William 
White. These gentlemen were commanders of vessels 
which sailed from Portsmouth. My grandmother, Mrs. 
Knight, married Mr. Shadrach Weymouth, whose sons 
I shall have occasion to mention hereafter. 

9 


14 


MEMOIRS OF 


I was born in the town o-f Rye,* once a part of Ports¬ 
mouth, N. H. September 30th, 1765, within one hundred 
rods of the Atlantic ocean. I was the second son and 
fourth child of my parents-. My brothers were Thomas r 
older than myself, Samuel, George and John ; the last 
died in infancy. My sisters were Martha, Elizabeth, 
Mary, Susan, Abagail, Marcy, Sarah and another who 
died in infancy* At an early age my life began to be 
marked by misfortunes and dangers. When I was less 
than three years of age I fell into a spring, and was to 
appearance drowned. A sister one year and a half older 
than myself, gave the alarm. I was taken out, and the 
Almighty was pleased to resuscitate me. Having reach¬ 
ed the age of seven years, my father placed me with Mr. 
John Cate, of Londonderry, forty miles from Portsmouth. 
His wife was my father’s youngest sister. I lived more 
than four years in this family, without having seen any 
member of my father’s family. Here I began to feel the 
sorrows of life. I frequently mourned deeply over my 
separation from my father, mother, brothers and sisters. 
I had no playmate. When childish vanity or fro ward- 
ness received correction, I frequently felt myself friend¬ 
less, and sometimes thought that I was chastised when, t 
did not deserve it, and that if my parents >vere acqqain-f 
ted with my sufferings, they would surely take, me, 
home with them. Children certainly enjoy a very great 
blessing, who in childhood are permitted to remain under, 
the care of parents. When I was eight or nine years 
old, an ancient Irish Presbyterian lady, by the name of 
Bell came to reside in my uncle’s family. She had ex¬ 
perienced religion before her removal from Ireland.— 
She had been distinguished for her piety during the 
course of a long life, having now reached the age of 
ninety. She was the first woman whom I had ever 
heard pray. She had been a cripple from her youth, 
was never married, and at this time I believe subsisted 
on the charity of her friends. Families whose means 
would allow it, seemed to account it an honor to hove 
Mrs. Bell for a guest. She paid especial attention to 

* As Rye was once a part of Portsmouth, I bar# geaeraly 
flailed from that place. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


15 


ihe youth and children of those families in which she 
resided, taught them to read, instructed them in the cate¬ 
chism, stored their memories with hymns, and often con¬ 
versed with them on the subject of religion. I recollect 
to have heard her speak of an extraordinary reformation 
which took place in Ireland during her childhood. She 
stated that a number of very young children were con¬ 
verted, some of whom at an early period, left the world 
in an extacy of joy, with strong confidence in the prospect 
of dwelling with the Saviour. When Mrs. Bell entered 
my uncle’s family, I had but little opportunity for read¬ 
ing ; she, however instructed me in the catechism, and 
I, under her direction, learned a number of hymns, most 
of which I recollect to this day. 

One Sabbath afternoon, while this lady was employed 
in catechising the children of the family, my mind be¬ 
came agitated in an unusual manner. I wished to retire, 
but feared to make the attempt, lest 1 should be ordered 
to remain in the room ; at the same time I concluded 
I should cry aloud if I remained. I was awed with 
a sense of the presence of GOD, but could find no cause 
for my strange confusion of mind. At length I hastily 
made for the door and retired without molestation. It 
gave me a momentary relief to escape from the house 
unmolested. I fled to the barn, imagining that my feet 
scarcely touched the ground, and falling on my knees in 
one corner, I, for the first time attempted to pray. 

To all this, except weeping when I first left the house, 
I seemed to be involuntarily impelled. The conflict of 
feeling subsided, my mind became tranquil, and for some 
days or weeks, I felt an unusuul degree of solemnity. I 
have no recollection that Mrs. Bell ever made any inqui¬ 
ries respecting the state of my mind, yet she was inde¬ 
fatigable in giving me good counsel. 

During fifty-six years which passed away since 
that event, I have reflected on it perhaps a thousand 
times, but have never been able satisfactorily to assign a 
cause for my feelings on that Sabbath. I am not aware 
that I founded any hopes of salvation on those impress¬ 
ions. From that time forwaid, however, when I thought 
<of God, my mind was filled with awe, and I often dread-* 


16 


MEMOIRS OF 


ed to sin against him. Still I was not aware, at this pe¬ 
riod, of the fountain of iniquity which existed within my 
heart. From that period I occasionally prayed ; some¬ 
times felt my affections considerably excited, especially 
when thinking of home. I am now persuaded that I had 
no small degree of Pharisaic pride about me. I was 
however but a child, and much, very much needed an 
instructed 

I must now call the attention of the reader to circum¬ 
stances of a different kind, and wish that he with myself 
may keep the providence of God in view. The cele¬ 
brated Stamp Act passed the British Parliament in 1765, 
the year of my birth. That act excited a general alarm 
among the American Colonists.. Resolutions were 
passed against the act by most of the colonial assemblies. 
I had breathed but a few days when ten of the colo¬ 
nies, by their representatives, formed a Colonial Con- 
gress in the City of New-York, in October, 1765. 

I was about nine years of age when Gen. Gage, with 
a land and naval force, took possession of Boston, which 
has been termed the c< cradle of American indepen¬ 
dence.” The seizure of Boston exasperated the feel¬ 
ings of the colonists in every section of our country. I 
distinctly recollect the period when the farmers of Lon¬ 
donderry could scarcely settle themselves to their work. 
They felt that their rights were invaded. Many persons 
of talent or influence were friendly to the measures pur¬ 
sued by the British parliament; they were termed 11 To¬ 
ries.” Another class, which remonstrated against those 
measures, received the name of u Whigs.” My uncle 
with whom X resided was a decided Whig. Having form¬ 
ed acquaintances in Boston, wheie he had served his 
time at the cabinetmaker’s business, he felt a deep inte¬ 
rest in the events which occurred 1 there. He took the 
news-papers ; (there were comparatively few published 
at that day,) his neighbours assembled about him, and 
the fire-side conversation turned on the rights of the peo¬ 
ple, the injustice of parliament, the detection of Tories, 
&c. The conflicts at Lexington and Bunker’s hill., and 
the burning of Charleston, roused the Irish “ Yankies” 
of Lendonderry.. The young; men posted off to the bat- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


17 


tie ground, prompted by their sires, who followed them 
with their horses laden with provisions. My ears were 
open to all the passing news. I wished myself old 
enough to take an active part in this contest. Little did 
I realize at that time the horrors of war. I had not yet 
heard the clash of arms, the groans of the dying, and the 
shouts of the victors. Nor did I imagine at this period, 
when I so much abhorred swearing, that the time would 
arrive when I should become a profane sailor. What is 
man ? ‘‘At his best estate he is altogether vanity.” 

In Londonderry the influence of Doct. Matthew Thorn¬ 
ton, one of the signers of the declaration of independence, 
was exerted with great effect, on the side of liberty.— 
When I was about eleven years of age, my uncle re¬ 
moved from Londonderry to Epsom. Here another 
distinguished patriot had resided, Capt. Mc’Leary. He 
fell with General Warren, on Bunker’s Hill. I recollect 
the four following lines of a dirge, commemorative of the 
deaths of Warren and Mc’Leary, and their companions. 

“My trembling hands and aching heart, 

O how it throbs this day; 

Their loss is felt in every part 
Of North America.” 

These lines indicate the spirit of the times, rather than 
the poetic talent of their author. A martial spirit was 
diffused through the little circle of my acquaintances.— 
As the men were frequently called together for military 
discipline, their example was not lost upon the boys.— 
Lads from seven years old and upwards, were formed 
into companies, and being properly officered, armed with 
wooden guns and adorned with plumes, they would go 
through the manual exercise with as much regularity as 
the men. If two or three boys met, their martial ardor 
showed itself in exercising with sticks instead of muskets. 
Many a bitter sigh and broken heart, however, testiffed 
in the end the result of this military excitement. 

Parents saw with pain their sons advancing from child¬ 
hood to youth. My reader can but faintly imagine the 
feelings of an aged father, or ail affectionate mother, 
perhaps a widow, when news arrived that a son had 
o# 


13 


UtMOtbS OP 


left in the field of battle, or had languished and died in 
a hospital, or still remained a prisoner in the hands of 
a foe, whose tender mercies were cruel. Danger how¬ 
ever did not deter our young men from pressing forward 
to the’battle ground, or sailing to meet the foe upon the 
ocean. 

I turn to myself. While residing in Epsom, on, 
a Sabbath I went to a meeting in Chichester, accompa¬ 
nied by a number of others. 1 do not recollect to have 
heard the preacher’s name, but I am inclined to think 
that it must have been Elder Eliphalet Smith, [common¬ 
ly called “Mountain Smith.”] At this period I was 
about twelve years of age. I had enjoyed but little op¬ 
portunity for hearing preaching. Although the congre¬ 
gation assembled in a barn, the worship was conducted 
with great solemnity, and the preacher had my whole at¬ 
tention. I felt a solemn sense of my responsibility to 
Gon. In the intermission I retired into the woods, my 
mind was filled with serious reflections, and I earnestly 
wished to continue in this fratne of mind. While return¬ 
ing home, I had no inclination to join the young compa¬ 
ny in their light and careless conversation. I felt inclined 
to walk alone. The impression made on my mind con¬ 
tinued for some time. I do not recollect, however, to 
have formed any opinion respecting rriy situation. In¬ 
difference at last succeeded,but I did not indulge myself 
in outbreaking sins as usual. Soon after this I returned 
to my parents in Portsmouth. An abundance of new 
objects was here presented to my view. Ships were 
building, prizes taken from the enemy unloading, priva¬ 
teers fitting out, standards waved on the forts and batte¬ 
ries, the exercising of soldiers, the roar of cannon, the 
sound of martial music and the call for volunteers so in¬ 
fatuated me, that I was filled with anxiety to become an 
actor in the scene of war. My eldest brother, Thomas, 
had recently returned from a cruise on board the “ Gen¬ 
eral Mifflin,” of Boston, Capt. Mc’Neal. This ship had 
captured thirteen prizes, some of which, however, being 
of little value, were burnt, some were sold in France, 
others reached Boston, and their cargoes were divided 
among the crew of that ship. On my brother’s return, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


19 


I became more eager to try my fortune at sea. My fa¬ 
ther, though a high Whig, disapproved the practice of 
privateering. Merchant vessels, at this period, which 
ran safe, made great gains, seamen’s wages were conse¬ 
quently very high. Through my father’s influence 
Thomas was induced to enter the merchants’ service 
Though not yet fourteen years of age, like other boys, 
I imagined myself almost a man. I had intimated to my 
sister, that if my father would not consent that I should 
go to sea, I would run away, and go on board a privateer. 
i\Iy mind became so infatuated with the subject, that I 
talked of it in rhy sleep, and was overheard by my mother. 
She communicated what she had heard to my father.— 
My parents were apprehensive that I might wander off 
and go on board some vessel without their consent. At 
this period it was not an uncommon thing for lads to 
come out of the country, step on board a privateer, make 
a cruise and return home, their friends remaining in en¬ 
tire ignorance of their fate, until they heard it from them¬ 
selves. Others would pack up their clothes, take a cheese 
and a loaf of bread, and steer off for the army. There 
was a disposition in commanders of privateers and re¬ 
cruiting officers to encourage this spirit of enterprise in 
young men and boys. Though these rash young adven¬ 
turers did not count the cost, or think of looking at the 
dark side of the picture, yet this spirit, amidst the des¬ 
pondency of many, enabled our country to maintain 
a successful struggle and finally achieve her indepen¬ 
dence. 

The continental ship of war Ranger, of eighteen guns, 
commanded by Thomas Simpson, Esq. was at this time 
shipping a crew in Portsmouth. This ship had been or¬ 
dered to join the Boston and Providence frigates and the 
Queen of France of twenty guns, upon an expedition di¬ 
rected by Congress. My father having consented that I 
should go to sea, preferred the service of Congress to pri¬ 
vateering. He was acquainted with Capt. Simpson.— 
On board this ship were my two half uncles, Timothy 
and James Weymouth. Accompanied by my father, I 
visited the rendezvous of the Ranger and shipped as one 
of her crew. There were probably thirty boys on board 


20 


MEMOIRS OF 


this ship. As most of our principal officers belonged to 
the town, parents preferred this ship as a station for their 
sons who were about to enter the naval service. Hence 
most of these boys were from Portsmouth. As priva¬ 
teering was the order of the day, vessels of every descrip¬ 
tion were employed in the business. Men were not 
wanting who would hazard themselves in vessels of twen¬ 
ty tons or less, manned by ten or fifteen hands. Placing 
much dependence on the protection of my uncles, I was 
much elated with my supposed good fortune, which had 
at last made me a sailor. 

I was not yet fourteen years of age. I had received 
some little moral and religious instruction, and was far 
from being accustomed to the habits of town boys, or the 
maxims or dialect of sailors. The town boys thought 
themselves vastly superior to country lads ; and indeed 
in those days the distinction was much greater than at 
present. My diffidence and aversion to swearing, ren¬ 
dered me an object of ridicule to those little profane 
chaps. I was insulted, and frequently obliged to fight. 
In this I was sometimes victorious. My uncles, and oth¬ 
ers, prompted me to defend my rights. I soon began to 
improve in boxing, and to indulge in swearing. At first 
this practice occasioned some remorse of conscience.— 
I however endeavored to persuade myself that there was 
a necessity for it. I at length became a proficient in this 
abominable practice. To counterbalance my guilt in 
this, I at the same time became more constant in praying; 
heretofore I had only prayed occasionally ; now I pray¬ 
ed continually when I turned in at night, and vainly im¬ 
agined that I prayed enough by night to atone for the 
sins of the day. Believing that no other person on board 
prayed, I was filled with pride, concluding I had as much 
or more religion than the whole crew besides. The boys 
were employed in waiting on the officers, but in time of 
action a boy was quartered to each gun to carry cart¬ 
ridges. I was waiter to Mr. Charles Roberts, the boat¬ 
swain, and was quartered at the third gun from the bow. 
Being ready for sea, we sailed to Boston, joined the 
Providence frigate, commanded by Commodore Whipple, 
the Boston frigate and the Queen of France. I believe 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


21 


that this small squadron composed nearly the entire na¬ 
vy of the United States. We proceeded to sea some 
time in June, 1779. A considerable part of the crew of 
the Ranger being raw hands and the sea rough, especial¬ 
ly in the gulf stream, many were exceedingly sick, and 
myself among the rest. We afforded a subject of con¬ 
stant ridicule to the old sailors. Our officers improved 
every favorable opportunity for working the ship and 
exercising the guns. We cruised several weeks, 
made the Western Islands, and at length fell in with 
the homeward bound Jamaica fleet, on the banks of 
Newfoundland. It was our practice to keep a man at 
the mast head constantly by day, on the look out. The 
moment a sail was discovered, a signal was given to our 
consorts, and all possible exertion was made to come up 
with the stranger, or discover what she was. About 
seven o’clock one morning, the man at the fore-topmast 
head cried out, ‘ £ a sail, a sail on the lee-bow; another 
there, and there.” Our young officers ran up the shrouds, 
and with their glasses soon ascertained that more than 
fifty sail could be seen from the mast-head. It should 
here be observed, that during the months of summer, it 
is extremely foggy on the banks of Newfoundland.— 
Sometimes a ship cannot be seen at the distance of one 
hundred yards, and then in a few minutes you may have 
a clear sky and bright sun for half an hour, and you are 
then enveloped in the fog again. The Jamaica fleet, 
which consisted of about one hundred and fifty sail, some 
of which were armed, was convoyed by one or two lino 
of battle ships, and several frigates and sloops of war, 
Our little squadron was in the rear of the fleet, and we 
had reason to fear that some of their heaviest armed ships 
iwere there also. If I am not mistaken, the Boston fri¬ 
gate was not in company with us at this time. My read¬ 
er may easily imagine that our minds were agitated with 
alternate hopes and fears. No time was to be lost. 
Our Commodore soon brought to one of their ships, man¬ 
ned and sent her off. Being to windward, he edged 
away and spoke to our Captain. We were at this time 
in pursuit of a large ship. The Commodore hauled his 
wind again, and in the course of an hour we came up. 


MEMOIRS OF 


50 

with the ship, which proved to be the Ilolderness, a 
thiee decker, mounting 22 guns. She struck after giv¬ 
ing her several broadsides. Although she had more 
guns, and those of heavier metal than ourselves, her crew 
was not sufficiently large to manage her guns, and at the 
same time work the ship. She was loaded with cotton, 
coffee, sugar, rum and alspice. While we were em¬ 
ployed in manning her, our Commodore captured another 
and gave her up to us to man also. When this was ac¬ 
complished, it was nearly night; we were, however, 
unwilling to abandon the opportunity of enriching our¬ 
selves, therefore kept along under easy sail. Some time 
in the night we found ourselves surrounded with ships, 
and supposed we were discovered. We could distinctly 
hear their bells, on which they frequently struck a few 
strokes, that their ships might not approach too near 
each other during the night. We were close on board 
one of their largest armed ships; and from the multitude 
of lights which had appeared, supposed that they had 
called to quarters. It being necessary to avoid their 
convoy, we fell to leeward, and in an hour lost sight of 
them all. The next day the sky was overcast, and at 
times we had a thick fog. In the afternoon the sun 
shone for a short time, and enabled us to see a numerous 
fleet a few miles to windward, in such compact order, 
that we thought it not best to approach them. We were 
however in hopes that we might pick up some single ship. 
We knew nothing ufour consorts, but were entirely alone. 
Towards night we took and manned out a brig. On the 
third morning we gained sight of three ships, to which 
we gave chase, and called all hands to quarters. When 
they discovered us in chase, they huddled together, in¬ 
tending, as we supposed, to fight us ; they however soon 
made sail and ran from us ; after a short lapse of time 
we overhauled and took one of them, which we soon 
found to be a dull sailer. Another, while we were man¬ 
ning our prize, attempted to escape, but we soon found 
that we gained upon her. While in chase, a circum¬ 
stance occurred which excited some alarm. Two large 
ships hove in sight to windward, running directly for us, 
finder a press of sail. One of them shaped her course 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


£3 

for the prize we had just manned. We were unwilling 
to give up our chase, as we had ascertained from our 
prize that the two other ships were laden with sugar, 
rum, cotton, &c. and that they were unarmed. We 
soon came up with the hindmost, brought her to, and 
ordered her to keep under our stern, while we might 
pursue the other, as our situation was too critical to al¬ 
low us to heave to and get out our boat. 

The stranger in chase of us was under English col¬ 
ors; we however soon ascertained by her signal, that 
she was the Providence frigate, on board of which was 
our Commodore. 'This joyful intelligence relieved us 
from all fear of the enemy, and we soon came up with 
our chase. In the mean time, the prize which we had 
taken,,(but not boarded,) sought to get under the pro¬ 
tection of the Providence, mistaking that frigate for one 
of the English convoy, as he still kept their colors flying. 
Our prize, therefore, as she thought, eluded us, and hail¬ 
ing our Commodore, informed him, “that a Yankee 
cruiser had taken one of the fleet!” ‘Very well, very 
well,’ replied the Commodore, ‘ I’ll be alongside of him 
directly.’ Pie then hauled down his English colors, 
hoisted the American, and ordered the ship to haul down 
her flag and come under his stern. This order was im¬ 
mediately obeyed. We new ascertained that the strange 
ship, which was in chase of our first prize, was another 
of our consorts, the Queen of France. Having manned 
our prizes and secured our prisoners, we all shaped our 
course for Boston, where we arrived some time in tho 
last of July or beginning of August, 1779. 

In all we had taken ten prizes, two of which were re¬ 
taken. The Ranger made but a short stop at Boston, 
for as most of our officers and crew belonged to Ports¬ 
mouth and its vicinity, our vessel could be most conven¬ 
iently refitted there. On returning home, I found the 
addition of another sister to the family. She is now the 
w ife of Mr. David Ingalls, of Baldwin, in Maine, and is 
my youngest and only surviving sister. I had the satis¬ 
faction to find the family well. My eldest brother had 
recently returned from a successful voyage in a mer¬ 
chantman. The cargoes of our prizes being divided 


24 


MEMOIRS OF 


among our crews, my share was about one ton of sugar, 
from thirty to forty gallons of fourth proof Jamaica rum, 
about twenty pounds of cotton, and about the same quan¬ 
tity of ginger, logwood and alspice, and about seven hun¬ 
dred dollars in paper money, probably worth fifty 
dollars in specie. My readers must be left to imagine 
the feelings of my parents, when they could number four 
sons and seven daughters around their table in health 
and prosperity. u In the day of prosperity be joyful, 
but in the day of adversity, consider. God also hath 
set one over against the other, to the end that man should 
find nothing alter him.” Eccl. vii. 14. 










CHAPTER II. 


Second cruise with Capt. Simpson, in the Ranger — 
Third , in the same ship , from Charleston—Chased 
into Charleston by the British feet — Captured — 
Small-pox—Came to Newport, R, I. with Capt . Row¬ 
ers ,, his master—At Boston heard of his father's death 
—Death of Capt Rowers, in Boston—Gets home sick 
—Sails in the Alexander—in the Greyhound—taken 
in a prize—imprisoned at Placentia (Newfoundland.) 

After a few weeks, or perhaps a few days of pleasing 
pastime, the lads must repair to their ships again. It 
would seem unmanly for sailors to shed tears at parting 
from their friends. Rut, “ judge ye who know a 
mother’s cares.’* The downcast look and the trickling 
tear upon the cheek of a fond mother and affectionate 
sisters, would draw at least a deep sigh from the bosom 
of an adventurous boy. 

God had graciously concealed from our view the 
days of adversity, which in his wise counsel were to 
succeed those few days of prosperity. 

The Ranger was again ready for sea; the same offi¬ 
cers and most of the same crew were going in her again. 
I had never been discharged, and of course was consid¬ 
ered one of her crew. We rejoined our old consorts, 
and cruised to the southward, and in course of the win¬ 
ter put into Charleston, S. C. having taken several small 
Rritish transports of but little value. 

Having replenished our provisions and water, we put 
to sea on another cruise, on the coast of Florida and the 
southern States. 

While on this cruise, a memorable event took place 
with me. On the coast of Georgia we fell in with a ship 
and gave her chase. We were running toward the land, 
and the wind increased to such a degree that orders 
were given to reef the topsails. It was the business of 
boys, with the assistance of marines, to reef the mizzen 
topsail He who is first aloft goes on the weather yard- 
3 


26 


MEMOIRS OP 


arm, and passes the earring, so called, viz. secures the 
leach or outer edge of the sail to the end of the yard¬ 
arm. As I was not fortunate enough to be first, but was 
however the second, it was my lot to go on to the lee 
yard-arm, and pass the earring. I was followed by sev¬ 
eral heavy marines ; the lee lift broke, or as the sailors 
would say, parted ; the yard tipped up and down, and 
as I was sitting astride the yard, outside the rigging, I 
immediately slipped off, having nothing to support me 
except a. small piece of rigging about as thick as a man's 
little finger. I held on to this small rope until I caught 
the rigging of the cross jack-yard, and got in on the lee 
shrouds. The ship at this time was running at the rate 
of ten miles an hour, with quite a rough sea ; so that if 
I had gone overboard, it would have been next to impos¬ 
sible to have saved me. Night came on, and the ship 
that we were chasing escaped us. Shortly after this, 
about the middle of Feb. 1780, early in the morning, we 
discovered four or five large British ships of war to lee¬ 
ward of us, the land being in sight to windward, the en¬ 
emy gave us chase. We beat up to Charleston Bar, 
came to anchor, and waited a little while for the tide to 
rise, and then ran in and came to anchor under fort Sul¬ 
livan. The British lay several days outside, then light¬ 
ened their ships, came in over the bar, and came to 
anchor, but durst not approach the fort. They doubt¬ 
less recollected the defeat of Sir Peter Parker, before 
the same fort, in 17 76. 

It was now ascertained that the enemy meditated an 
attack on the city of Charleston, the harbour w as com¬ 
pletely blockaded. The ships at the bar were soon join¬ 
ed by others. The Ranger being the smallest ship of our 
squadron, could approach near the shore, and was or¬ 
dered to attack a small battery that the enemy had 
erected up^n James’ Island. Our ship having taken her 
station, came to anchor before the battery, and with 
springs on her cables, commenced cannonading with 
great fury, and continued the firing for an hour and 
a half, without cessation. We succeeded in dismount¬ 
ing their cannon and obliged their soldiers to quit the 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


27 


ground. Our ship received several shots, but no person 
was injured. 

At the commencement of the cannonading, I was ex¬ 
ceedingly alarmed, but was careful to conceal my fears 
from my shipmates. After we had discharged a few • 
broadsides, my fears pretty much subsided, and I, with 
high spirits, served my gun with cartridges, until the fir¬ 
ing ceased. t ^ 

Our little ship was once more detached to encoAnte^r 
a battery above the city ; we commenced our firing a lit- j 
tie before high water, and were obliged to withdraw froiffy 
our station shortly before the tide began to ebb. .The I 
tide fell so much before we left our station, that we v^ere 
obliged to employ our boats and small anchors to warji 
our ship into deeper water, there being but little wind at 
that time. ’ ^ 

We were not so successful as we had been with the 
battery on James’ Island. The battery we had now to 
contend with, was so near the British head quarters^ 
that they received another gun, a 24 pounder. Our 
ship received a 24 pound ball, which lodged in her* 
side, directly against where I stood, it having struck the 
salt marsh, which deadened its force, or it must have 
gone through the ship, and would of course have killed 
me. 

Charleston was not so fortified as to stand a regular 
siege, and yet we were enabled to make a vigorous de¬ 
fence. A chain of redoubts, lines and batteries, extend¬ 
ed from Ashley to Cooper’s river ; on those rivers was 
an almost continued line of batteries. The British hav¬ 
ing crossed Ashley river, broke ground on the night of 
the first of April, within eight hundred yards of our lines. 
About the 9th, the Britisli fleet lying within the bar, 
having a fresh wind in their favour, ventured to run by 
Sullivan’s Island, under a heavy fire from fort Moultrie. 
They lost twenty seven seamen killed and wounded, and 
one of their transports. They anchored between the 
fort and city, secure from the cannon of both. Our ships 
could now no longer be employed to advantage ; their 
crews and some of their guns were removed into batte¬ 
ries. Capt. Simpson and the Ranger’s crew were sta 


28 


MEMOIRS OF 


tioned in a small fort called fort Gadsden; this being the 
uppermost one on the river, was much exposed to the fire 
of the British. A bomb at one time fell within a few 
feet of me: though much alarmed, I threw myself behind 
the carriage of a large gun, and escaped unhurt. Part 
of our officers with five or six waiters, of whom I was 
one, occupied an elegant house owned by a Col. Gadsden; 
whili here, a bomb fell through the roof and exploded 
m the^cellar, without injury to any one. While walking 
,p.lbne on the green, one day, a bomb burst over my head, 
add a large piece buried itself in the turf within three 
feet of me. At another time, while sitting in the room of 
a siqk shipmate, a ball struck the house and passed be¬ 
tween me and another person who was within two yards 
of me ; the bricks and plaster flew on every side, yet we 
escaped uninjured. The siege being closely pressed, 
b-klls and shells were continually falling within the city. 
1 have during the night counted ten bombs of different 
, sjzes, flying in the air at one time. No spot could now 
be considered as a place of safety. We were in contin¬ 
ual apprehension of an attempt to carry our works 
by storm, the force of the enemy being far superior to 
ours. 

Our provisions being exhausted, we at length capitu¬ 
lated on the 12t.h day of May, 1780. The American 
army was commanded by Gen. Lincoln, the British by 
Sir Henry Clinton. Our officers were paroled, and al¬ 
lowed to retain their waiters ; we were consequently 
allowed to be at large within the city. We were for 
several days entirely destitute of provisions, except mus¬ 
cles, w hich we gathered from the muscle beds. I was 
at this time waiter to Capt. Pierce Powers, who was 
master’s mate of the Ranger. He treated me with 
the kindness of a father, and I was strongly attached to 
him. The day after our surrender, a distressing acci¬ 
dent occurred. While the British soldiers were depos¬ 
iting the muskets taken from us in the grand magazine, 
which was bomb proof, the powder in it exploded. The 
shock was tremendous, and fatal to many, who were in¬ 
stantly hurried into eternity without a moment's warn¬ 
ing. I saw the print of a man who had been dashed 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


29 


against the end of a brick church thirty feet from the 
ground, and perhaps thirty rods from the magazine.— 
The cause of the explosion I never ascertained. After 
our surrender, it was discovered that the small pox pre¬ 
vailed among the British troops. Few of the New Eng¬ 
landers had ever had that disease. Our officers deemed 
it advisable that we should be inoculated. 

Our physicians performed this service for us, but they 
having no medicine at their command, could be of no 
other service to us. This disease I much more dread¬ 
ed than I did the bombs and balls of the enemy. When 
the symptoms came on, 1 was greatly alarmed, and by 
prayer applied to God for preservation ; he was graciously 
pleased to favour me, though I dare not say that my pray¬ 
er was the prayer of faith. I had this disease very fa¬ 
vourably. Capt. Powers did all that was in his power 
for my relief. 

As soon as it was practicable, Capt. Simpson and other 
officers procured a small vessel, which was employed as 
a cartel, to transport the officers, their boys and baggage 
to Newport, Rhode Island, agreeably to the terms of ca¬ 
pitulation. 

It being difficult to procure suitable casks for water, 
they obtained such as they could ; they proved to be 
foul, and after we had got to sea, our water became filthy 
and extremely noxious. Very few if any on board es¬ 
caped an attack of the diarrhoea. 

Our passage to Rhode Island was pleasant, though 
rather long. A considerable number of us having had 
the small pox, it became necessary that we should be 
thoroughly cleansed, before we passed through the coun¬ 
try. There were little smoke-houses erected on a re¬ 
mote part of the island for this purpose ; to these we 
repaired, superintended by the police officers; here our 
clothing was all unpacked and thrown about, and our¬ 
selves almost suffocated with a smoke made of oakum, 
tobacco, &c. 

Having gone through with smoking, we went to a creek 
to wash. As I could swim tolerably well, I ventured in¬ 
to the current ; it being near low water, my feet were 
entangled in eel-grass, and drawn under water and I very 
3 * 


so 


MEMOIRS OF 


narrowly escaped being drowned ; there being none who 
-could afford me any assistance. By making every pos¬ 
sible effort, I disengaged my feet, and recovered the 
shore, not a little alarmed. The lads who were swim¬ 
mers expressed their surprise at their inability to swim 
at this time. Indeed we were none of us aware of our 
weakness. I here had another hair-breadth escape. O 
how wonderful, how incomprehensible are the ways of 
God. 

Capt. Powers hired a passage for himself and me, in 
a two horse wagon, to Boston, where he put up at the 
sign of the golden ball, not far from the market ; this 
house was kept by a Mr. Cox, a free mason ; my mas¬ 
ter was also of that fraternity. The roads at that time 
were very different from what they now are. The con¬ 
trast between the motion of a vessel on the water, and 
that of a wagon over such a rough road, is very great.— 
The jolting of the wagon proved very unfavourable to us 
in our weak state. The free masons paid particular at¬ 
tention to my master. He was immediately confined to 
his bed and placed under the care of a physician.— 
Though weak and without appetite, I was with difficulty 
able to keep about. My two uncles who were captured 
with me at Charleston, had gone in a cartel directly to 
Philadelphia. During the time that Boston had been 
occupied by the British troops, (1774, 1776,) a gentle¬ 
man by the name of Drown, an inhabitant of Boston, but 
with his family removed to Epping, N. H. where he re¬ 
sided in the house of my uncle Johnston. Having form¬ 
ed an intimate acquaintance with grandmother, he had 
learned that she had two sons and a grandson on board 
the Ranger. Having ascertained that part of the Ran¬ 
ger’s crew had returned to Boston, Mr. Drown, now re¬ 
siding in Boston, made diligent enquiry after us. He 
called at the house of Mr. Cox, while I was at an apoth¬ 
ecary’s shop, and gave information that my father teas 
no more! My master, deeply afflicted, requested Mr*. 
Cox to inform me, rather than to communicate the dis¬ 
tressing intelligence himself On my return, Mrs. Cox 
took me into another apartment, and with much sympathy 
made known to me the matter. My readers can better 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


31 


judge of my feelings than I can express them. I having 
passed some time in tears and reflection,went into my mas¬ 
ter’s chamber. He readdy perceived that I had received 
the heart-rending intelligence, and was himself quite af¬ 
fected. Said he Andrew, you have met with a great loss, 
I am very sorry for you ; I don’t know how it will turn with 
me, but I hope you won’t leave me. 1 suppose you are 
desirous to get home, but I am unwilling to part with 
you. I have no child, and if I should live, and you will 
live with me, I will make you my son, and will endeav¬ 
our to make a man of you. I am now looking for Mrs. 
Powers every day ; I hope you won’t leave me, Andrew. 
If I should live, I will do all I can for you.” This friend¬ 
ly address much affected me. I loved the man, and 
although I had a great desire to get home, I could not 
leave him. His time however was short. 1 think he 
died the next day or the day after. I was much grieved 
for the loss of such a kind and faithful friend. He was 
indeed a father to me. I was now a poor orphan, not yet 
fifteen years old, without relatives or acquaintance in 
Poston, sick and without money. But the Lord has al¬ 
ways been very gracious in raising friends for me. Mr. 
and Mrs. Cox felt much for me and endeavoured to com¬ 
fort me. They thonght I had better try to get home.— 
Mr. Cox said there was no coaster in from Portsmouth, 
at that time, and that there might not be any in for a week 
or more ; that if I should set out by land, I should proba- 
bly get some assistance in my journey along. The dis¬ 
tance to Portsmouth was about 60 miles. 

The day after my master’s death, by Mr. Cox’s direc¬ 
tion, I placed his clothing, ^c. in his chest,locked it and 
took the key to carry to Mrs. Powers. 

Mr. Cox gave me five or six paper dollars, and his 
best counsel and wishes. The tears flowed plentifully 
from Mrs. Cox’s eyes, while in broken accents she gave 
me her benediction. I set out in the fore part of the 
day, (Mrs. Powers arrived in the evening.) With my 
little budget I stalked down to the ferry, just as the fer¬ 
ryman had arrived fiom the opposite shore. My mea¬ 
gre appearance immediately excited his attention, and 
ascertaining I was from prison, and that I wished to cross 


32 


MEMOIRS OP 


the ferry, he went directly over with me, without wait¬ 
ing for any other passenger, gave me my passage and 
his best wishes. My complaint had now become a con¬ 
firmed dysentery, and I found myself poorly able to trav¬ 
el ; I had not walked a mile before I was obliged to lie 
down under a shade, by the road side, in great pain,— 
After a while the pain in some measure abated, and such 
extreme debility succeeded, that I felt great difficulty in 
attempting to walk again, and feared I should never 
get home. A train of melancholy reflections overwhelmed 
my mind ; I wept, I wept bitterly. My father was dead, 
my master, a second father, was no more. I could re¬ 
member the sympathy he expressed for me, but could 
profit nothing by it at this time. 

I was in pain. I knew not whether I could rise on 
my feet, or if I could rise whether I could walk. Hav¬ 
ing wept until my tears were exhausted, my bosom 
would again and again swell with sorrow. I cannot now 
say, whether in all this conflict, I attempted to pray. 
I however attempted to rise and with difficulty succeed¬ 
ed, picked up my little budget and slowly pursued my 
journey. I had walked quite too fast from the ferry, and 
too far without resting. I now walked cautiously and 
rested frequently. As I was passing a house in Lynn, I 
was noticed by a woman who stood in her door; she came 
immediately into the road to me, asked me a few quest¬ 
ions, and insisted upon my going into the house. We 
were met at the door by another tender hearted mother ; 
they had one or both of them a son or sons in the army. 
I being seated, they stood over me and wept freely. 

The best which their house afforded was at my service. 
I partook sparingly of such as they prescribed. In the 
presence of those ladies, I put off the effeminate mourn¬ 
er. My spirits were considerably revived, and I found 
that by walking slowly and resting frequently, I could 
make the best progress; that night I got to Newell’s 
tavern in Lynn, at that time one of the most celebrated 
taverns in New England. I think the old gentleman’s 
name was Timothy, he had a hare lip. He gratuitously 
entertained me and gave me good counsel. 

The next day I had an opportunity of riding several 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


33 


miles in the bottom of a chaise, in which two gentlemen 
were riding, and put up at the Bell tavern in Danvers. 
In about seven or eight days I arrived at Portsmouth ; 
there I found my mother a widow, having only two of her 
children with her, Betsey, about twelve years old, and 
Sally, her youngest, about one. My brother Thomas 
had sailed for the West Indies in December* with Capt. 
Peter Shores in a little vessel; Capt. Stackpole and Capt. 
Jones had each of them sailed in company with Capt. 
Shores. They had now been gone long enough to have 
made two voyages to the West Indies, but there was no 
intelligence from them, nor has there ever been any to 
this day. Without doubt they all foundered in a violent 
gale of wind, which arose shortly after their departure. 
My sister Martha was living at my uncle Samuel Sher¬ 
burne’s, on the ancient farm. The death of her father, 
and the fate of her brothers weighed her spirits down. 
She was eighteen months older than myself, and after¬ 
wards became the wife of Mr. Edmund Davis, of Ports¬ 
mouth. 

Little did I expect to have found such changes in the 
family in one year. The reader will judge of my feelings 
under such circumstances. Dr. A. It. Cutter, one of 
the most celebrated physicians in the country and one of 
the most amiable of men, was called for, and I think 
nearly two months elapsed before I recovered so as to be 
capable of any business. There was no employment 
of any consequence for me on shore, unless I should go 
into the army. I preferred the sea and was very de¬ 
sirous of doing something for the family. My father 
was by occupation a carpenter, he left no estate and the 
avails of my former cruise were pretty much exhausted. 

My mother was now industriously employed in spin¬ 
ning, knitting, and sewung for others, but principally in 
spinning linen ; this was now her only means of support¬ 
ing herself and children who were with her. My moth¬ 
er would sit at her wheel for hours, diligent and pensive, 
without uttering a w r ord, while now and then the tears 
would roll down her cheeks, and when she broke silence 
she perhaps narrated some event which transpired in my 
father’s day, or referred to some event respecting hor 
dear Thomas, her first born. 


34 


MEMOIRS OF 


As the Ranger was built in Portsmouth and had fallen 
into the hands of the enemy, the patriotic merchants of 
Portsmouth were anxious to retrieve their loss ; they 
built a beautiful ship, which mounted twenty guns and 
called her the Alexander, and gave Capt. Simpson the 
command of her ; Elijah Hall, Esq. who was first Lieut, 
of the Ranger, was also second in command on board 
the Alexander; he was a worthy character and much be¬ 
loved by the officers and crew. A considerable number of 
the Ranger’s officers and crew occupied the same station 
on board this ship, they had previously occupied on 
board the Ranger. Having been invited by Capt. Simp¬ 
son, to try my fortune with him again, I readily accepted 
the invitation. 

YVe sailed from Portsmouth in December 1780, and 
cruised upwards of three months, but took nothing; we 
never gave chase to any vessel without coming up with 
her, but we never met with an enemy. Our cruise was 
designed for tlpree months, but, as we could get no 
prize, we prolonged it and our provision failed, so that 
we came to half allowance before we got in, and we re¬ 
ally suffered for water. 

1 left with my mother the power of attorney, with di¬ 
rections to sell any part of my share she might think 
proper. She sold one fourth part, for about seventy 
dollars, to a former acquaintance and was to take coun¬ 
try produce, this answered a valuable purpose; it pro¬ 
cured fodder for her cow, firewood, &c. 

On my return, I found my mother and family in health, 
but no news from Thomas. I began to feel as if the 
care of the family would devolve on me and I felt zealous 
to render them all the help in my power. Our friends 
and neighbors began to extol me for my attention to my 
mother and sister, and I was emulous to redeem the 
pledge. 

The Alexander was a fine ship and "the fastest sailing 
ship I was ever acquainted with. She was preparing for 
the second cruise and I had been invited to try my for¬ 
tune in her again, and had concluded to accept the in¬ 
vitation ; but a circumstance occurred which gave mo 
a different direction. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


35 


I was walking the street one day, and being in a sea¬ 
man’s garb, was readily recognised as a sailor and was 
overtaken by a jolly tar, who accosted me in the follow¬ 
ing manner. “ Ha, shipmate, don’t you wish to take a 
short cruise in a fine schooner and make your fortune ?” 

I replied that I expected to sail in the Alexander. “ O 
we shall get back,” said he,“ before the Alexander will 
get ready to sail.” 

The young man was Capt. Jacob Wilds, of Kenne- 
bunkport, in Maine ; his schooner was called the Grey¬ 
hound, she was fitted out in Salem, Massachusetts. She 
had been a bank fisherman, but being now finely painted, 
with a new and longer set of masts and spars, and having 
her ensign and pennant flying, she made quite a warlike 
appearance. She mounted eight four pounders and was 
of about sixty tons burden. A Capt. Arnold, (of 
whom I shall have occasion to speak more particularly 
hereafter) was the only person who was going on board 
the Greyhound from Portsmouth. lie was first prize- 
master and was very solicitous that I should go with him. 
He was the only person on board, whose face I had ev¬ 
er seen before, and with him, I had but a very slight ac¬ 
quaintance. 1 was then in my sixteenth year and pretty 
well grown; the Capt. promised that I should have a 
full share and made me many fair promises, and he prov¬ 
ed punctual. He told me he should go into Old York, 
(a small port, three leagues east of Portsmouth) and that 
if I would goon board his vessel, and goto York, if 
I did not like the vessel and crew, he would pay my 
expenses back to Portsmouth again. 

Privateering had now become the order of the day, 
and in many instances small vessels had as good success 
as large ones, though it was difficult to get a sufficient 
number of hands to man them. I was induced to go on 
board with Capts. Wilds and Arnold, and to go as far as 
York. Having got on board I was, by Capt. Wilds, wiih 
something of ceremony introduced to the officers, and I 
found indeed a jovial company. She had a full comple¬ 
ment of officers, two or three ordinary seamen before the 
mast, and between twenty and thirty boys, scarcely one 
of them as large as myself, and some of them not a doz¬ 
en years old. I was taken into the cabin and caressed 


36 


MEMOIR* OF 


by Capt. Wilds and his officers, and spent a long and jo¬ 
vial evening ; I was invited to sing them a song, and in 
the course of the evening entertained them with several. 
In this no doubt there was management with Capt. 
Wilds and his officers; they found it very difficult to ob¬ 
tain hands ; I was not yet secured and they wished that 
I might become attached to them. 

The next day having got under way, we ran down to 
York, and it became necessary for Capt. Wilds to Jay 
some plan to increase his crew in this place,for in Ports¬ 
mouth he had very poor success ; the Capt. had gained 
some information of the state of things at York by the 
pilot, who piloted us into the harbor ; he therefore laid 
a plan to get up a frolic at a public house, and suitable 
persons were employed to invite the lads and lasses for 
a country dance. Rum, coffee, sugar, biscuit, &.c. were 
taken on shore from the privateer, for the purpose, and 
the frolic went on. Having but one fiddler and the 
company being large, it became necessary to have dan¬ 
cing in more than one room ; I was selected by some of 
the officers, to sing for some of the dancers ; this suited 
my turn, for I was no proficient in dancing. Every art 
and insinuation was employed by the officers to obtain 
recruits ; they succeeded in getting two only that even¬ 
ing, one by the name of Sweet, and the other by the 
name of Babb. 

The next day was to me, one of the most memorable 
days of my life ; such gloom and horror fell upon my 
mind as I never before experienced, such melancholy 
and despondency as I never before or since have felt, and 
which it is impossible for me to describe. I resolved to 
return home, but even in this resolution I could not an¬ 
ticipate the least degree of relief, and the voyage before 
me looked as gloomy as death ; had I been on a single 
plank, in the midst of the ocean, my condition could not 
have appeared more hopeless. While in this forlorn condi¬ 
tion it came into my mind to go on board the vessel which 
now lay at the wharf, and pray ; accordingly I went on 
board (the people being mostly on shore) and sought a 
place of retirement, and after some time spent in contem¬ 
plation, I attempted to pray. The gloom in some meas- 


ANDREW SHBRBURNE. 


37 


ure subsided. I disclosed my intention to the Capt. he 
acknowedged my right to return if I chose, but express¬ 
ed great unwillingness to part with me; he engaged Capt. 
Arnold and other officers in his interest to persuade me to 
stay and spend one more evening with them ; they were 
so urgent that they finally overcame me, and I reluctant¬ 
ly gave my consent. The evening was spent as had 
been the preceding evening, and they obtained one 
more hand only. I think his name was Preble. 

The Capt. was satisfied that this was not the place 
for him to make up his crew and was determined to push 
farther eastward and gained my consent to go the cruise. 
We left York with a design to call at Cape Porpoise in 
Arundel, now called Kennebunkport. At this place 
dwelt the Captain’s father, who was an old sea Captain 
and had acquired a handsome estate and now occupied 
one of the best farms in that region. Our Capt. was but 
about twenty-two years of age ; he had been absent 
several years sailing from Salem and other ports, and 
being now in the place of his nativity, there was no diffi¬ 
culty in getting up a frolic ; this plan was resorted to, 
but to little purpose, for we obtained but one hand ; his 
name was Samuel Wilds, a kinsman of the Capt. a lad 
about sixteen. I shall have occasion to say something 
of him hereafter. 

The harbor of Cape Porpoise was but very little re¬ 
sorted to except by coasters and fishermen; there was 
by no means a dense population in this place, a vessel 
of so rakish an appearance as the Greyhound, with such 
a flaming flag and streaming pennants, was quite a nov¬ 
elty. The Captain’s barge was rowed with four oars only, 
and I had the honor of being steersman of this little 
barge, and when we put off from along side, the Capt. 
was honored with a gun and three cheers, from the crew; 
this was something unusual, but we were privateers¬ 
men. 

We left Cape Porpoise, for the port of Falmouth, now 
called Portland, which had been burnt in the commence¬ 
ment of the revolution, by Capt. Mowatt, who command¬ 
ed his Majesty’s ship Cancer. We made but a short 
stop at this place and got one hand only, and a poor 
4 


MEMOIRS OP 


38 

thing he was. There was now no further prospect of 
increasing our crew, we were obliged to try our fortune 
with what we had and put to sea. 

I very much regretted that I had ever seen the Grey¬ 
hound ; my melancholy which commenced at York, 
had by no means snbsided ; at times I felt fearful fore¬ 
bodings, but endeavored to put the best side out, for 
it was by no means becoming a young sailor to discov¬ 
er a want of fortitude; I endeavored to suppress all 
gloomy reflections and make the best of a bad bargain. 

There was a lad on board, by the name of William 
Deadman, near my age, but not so heavy; he was quite 
active and very persevering; he and myself were always 
called upon to do whatever was to be done aloft and 
were each of us emulous not to be outdone by the other. 
William was a worthy lad and there was always perfect 
harmony between us ; we had the praise of the officers 
and were much caressed by them. We met with noth¬ 
ing worth noticing, until we got off against Halifax; we 
were there chased by a topsail-schooner, larger than 
• ours ; we had a fresh gale and a heavy sea, we carried 
sail so long, that we were much in danger of carrying 
away our masts; the vessel chasing us, was a much’fas¬ 
ter sailer than ours, and of course, came up with us ; 
but before she came up, we were obliged to take in our 
topsail. In taking in the fore-topsail alone, I very nar¬ 
rowly escaped being thrown off* the yard, which was but 
a small spar, not much larger than a man’s leg, and 
consequently, could afford but little support to what a 
large spar would. The pitching, and rolling of the ves¬ 
sel, rendered my situation dangerous beyond descrip¬ 
tion. I even now shudder at the thought of my then 
perilous condition ; millions would not induce me to run 
such a risk again. The schooner in chase of us, prov¬ 
ed to be an American privateer, called the Blood Hound. 
We found that our privateers were numerous on this 
coast. 

After this we adventured to take a peep into Halifax. 
As we drew near the harbor, we discovered a ship, ap¬ 
parently in distress, aiming to get in. We began to 
hope she might be a prize for us; we were not however 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


39 


without suspicion, and the nearer we approached her 
the more our suspicion increased, and at length we 
thought best to draw off. We had no sooner shifted 
our course, than she got up her topgallant yard, set 
her topgallant sails, and gave us chase, and we soon dis¬ 
covered that she gained on us; we now began to dread 
Halifax prison. She chased us several hours and continu¬ 
ed to gain on us; the wind was light, and fortunately for 
us, it became foggy, and by manoeuvring, we eluded her. 

We had hoped to intercept some merchantman going 
in, but now feared to lurk about this harbor, as some 
privateers had previously done, and had got rich prizes. 
The British had found out some of our yankee tricks, 
and were looking out for us. Our Captain thought it 
best to be oiF from this ground, and try our luck on the 
eastern shore and about the mouth of the St. Lawrence. 
As we proceeded we had a trying time amongst the 
islands ; we could look in no direction without seeing a 
sail, and we soon found that we should be under the 
necessity of speaking some of them. 

By their manoeuvring we suspected that they were in 
league with each other, and were at a loss to determine 
whether they were friends or foes. 

There were none which were as large as our vessel, 
and we supposed that we should have nothing to fear 
from any one of them; but if they should prove to be 
enemies, we should have more than two to encounter 
but having spoken with one or two of them, we asce - 
tained that they were all Americans. 

We all took up our quarters, that night, in a harbor 
not inhabited; I think it was called Beaver Harbor ; 
and when all collected, I believe there were seven or 
eight sail, all smaller than the Greyhound, and some of 
them not more than fifteen or twenty tons. 

There were too many instances in which those pica¬ 
roons plundered the defenceless inhabitants of the 
British possessions. The next day we parted with all 
this squadron, except one, who agreed to keep company 
with us, and we soon parted with her. 

VV e visited a cluster of islands called the Bird Isl¬ 
ands and procured perhaps a half a dozen bushels of 


40 


MEMOIRS OF 


eggs, of different sizes, such as those of wild geese, 
gannets, gulls, ducks, &c. It was interesting to see 
the management of so many different tribes of the feath¬ 
ered race ; their nests were almost as thick as hills 
of corn, in a field. Those islands I believe did not 
contain more than an acre or two each, and some 
less than an acre. Low bushes grew on them, 
but no trees. When wa landed it excited a general 
alarm. The 4 birds would rise in masses, and in their 
different dialects, remonstrate against our intrusions; 
for indeed, our conduct towards them, was not only rude, 
but barbarous; nor were we very fortunate in our plun¬ 
der, for many of the eggs were unfit for use, having 
been set on too long, nor indeed, were the best of them 
a very delicious morsel to me ; in the season of them, 
the Newfoundlanders use them as a substitute for bread. 
I have seen a Newfoundland shallop almost loaded with 
them. 

We visited the Island of St. Peter’s, at the mouth of 
Fortune Bay, in Newfoundland: this had been a French 
settlement of some consequence, but had recently been 
entirely destroyed, by the British; another beautiful 
island, called Micland, had shared the same fate. At 
St. Peter’s we took out our guns, and hauled our vessel 
on a beautiful beach, and cleaned her bottom in order 
to facilitate her sailing. 

Near this Island, we fell in with a Newfoundland 
shallop owned and commanded by Charles Grundy; he 
had been to St. John’s after salt, for his own use ; he 
was an independent English fisherman. I do not mean 
that he was a man of fortune ; only that he was inde¬ 
pendent of the English merchants in whose service, al¬ 
most all the fishermen were employed. We detained 
Grandy some time, and examined him very closely, and 
were informed by him, that an English brig had recent¬ 
ly entered the bay, with supplies for the fishing stations, 
we gave Charley some pork and bread, and dismissed 
him to his great joy, for he fared much better than his 
countrymen generally did, when they fell into the hands 
of American privateersmen. 

We flattered ourselves, that we should fall in with this 
brig, and obtain a fine prize. We sailed up the bay* 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


41 


visited several ports where fishing was carried on, upon 
a large scale, but found nothing of the brig, but were in¬ 
formed that one was expected. Those ports had been 
before visited by privateers who had plundered them. 
Our Captain strictly forbade every thing of this kind. 
Having failed in our enterprise respecting the said brig, 
the Captain took two of the best shallops he could find, 
which belonged to merchants in England, and loaded 
them with oil and dry fish, which was the property of 
said merchants. 

These shallops being loaded, were both committed to 
the care of Capt. Arnold, who went on board the largest 
of them; he was to have two hands with him; one, he was 
to select himself, and Capt. Wilds was to select the 
other. Arnold chose me, and Capt. Wilds selected James 
Annis. Jasper Loid, an old Cape Ann fisherman, had 
the charge of the other shallop, (subject, however, to 
Capt. Arnold,) and with him, were Samuel Wilds and 
Samuel Babb. 

We left the privateer at Micland, in the mouth of 
Fortune Bay, and set out for Salem ; but the wind head¬ 
ed us and we put back, and anchored in the harbor of 
the Island of Micland. A dark cloud seemed now to 
be brooding over me, and the storm with which I had 
(at least in anticipation) been threatened, was now 
about to burst upon me. The wind was decidedly ahead 
and it was something of a risk to cross the gulf of St. 
Lawrence in so small a vessel, and it was also a risk to 
pass by Halifax. We lay wind bound in Micland, sever¬ 
al days. 

As we were in a snug harbor, where there were no 
inhabitants, we did not keep a watch at night. One 
morning when I came on deck, I perceived that Capt. 
Arnold was very different from what I had ever seen 
him; he had appeared rather low spirited, from the time 
the privateer left us, and now appeared in some meas¬ 
ure deranged; he was remarkably sportive for some time, 
and on a sudden seemed to have something lie with 
great weight on his mind. In the evening he requested 
me to get a light and come into the cabin to him. I 
complied with his request, and tarried with him all night.. 


42 


MEMOIRS OF 


Neither of us slept any: he talked without cessatian all 
night, and upon almost every subject imaginable; some¬ 
times he would seem to talk rationally, for a few minutes 
and would then appear completely deranged again. 
From some circumstances, I had the impression that he 
had an awful dread of falling into the hands of the ene¬ 
my. It was said that he and others had run away from 
Halifax with a king’s cutter, but I do not recollect 
whether I had this hint from himself or others. In the 
morning he appeared very cheerful, and full of business, 
and quite inoffensive, and generally disposed to hearken 
to my advice. In the course of the day, he seemed to 
imagine himself on board the privateer and would fre¬ 
quently speak to this and the other officer, and reply as 
though they answered him. When night came on, I ad¬ 
vised him to go into his cabin. I made his bed and 
proposed to him to lie down, he complied without hesi¬ 
tation and was still. 1 thought it a fortunate circum- 
strace that I had got him into his cabin, and was deter¬ 
mined to secure him. I shut the door and buttoned it 
on the outside ; I then took a round stick of wood, which 
was sawn off square at each end, and seven or eight 
inches in diameter, set one end against the door and the 
other end against a bulkhead, which was about three 
and a half feet from the door; the billet of wood would 
admit of tacking a piece of board to one end of it, and it 
then of suitable length to secure the door. I pressed 
it down with my whole weight and thought the door per¬ 
fectly secure; and, having had no sleep the night before, 
I turned in. 

The captain made no noise, and as he had slept none 
the night before, I flattered myself that he might rest 
comfortably, he being then perfectly still. As for James 
Annis he seemed to be a very shiftless and stupid being; 
he was very low spirited, but had slept well the night be¬ 
fore. The weather was very pleasant and we had noth¬ 
ing to disturb us through the night. In the morning 
Annis went on deck between day and sunrise, but soon 
returned in great surprise, saying, “ Sherburne, where 
is Capt. Arnold ?” I answered he is in the cabin. lC He 
is not on board,” said Annis ; I went immediacy on 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


43 


deck and saw the cabin door open, I looked in and could 
find nothing of the captain, his clothes all lay on deck 
except his waistcoat ; his shirt lay on the top of his 
clothes and his silver sleeve buttons lay upon his shirt.— 
The reader will judge of my surprise and distress on 
this awful occasion! 

The water being smooth and clear, and being but 
about twelve or fifteen feet deep, and the bottom white 
sand, was plainly to be seen. The other shallop being 
within fifty yards of us, and they having the skiff, we 
hailed them and informed them of the circumstance, and 
requested them to come with the boat, which they did. 
We went round and round the shallop, enlarging our 
circle and viewing the bottom very carefully for a con¬ 
siderable distance, and then went on shore and walked 
round the beach to see if we could discover any tracks 
of bare feet in the sand, but all our endeavours to find 
him were abortive. The question now was, what shall we 
do ? Loyd was no navigator, though he was well ac¬ 
quainted with the eastern shore. His plan was to take 
both shallops under his command, and endeavor to get 
them to Salem. He flattered himself that he should 
have a deserving share if he should succeed. 

I proposed that we should all take the best shallop, 
and take the sails and light rigging off the other and 
endeavor to make the best of our way home, but the 
old man would not consent. 

Ours was the largest and bestofthe two, and of course 
had the best cargo, but theirs had the best sails. I then 
proposed that Annis and myselfshould go on board with 
him and quit ours, but he would not agree to this. 

I felt myself in a critical situation. I was not yet six¬ 
teen years of age. Annis knew not a point of the com¬ 
pass, he had never attempted to steer, knew nothing 
about working the vessel, and appeared quite low spirit¬ 
ed and stupid. We were yet in an enemy’s country, 
had to cross the gulf of St. Lawrence, and get by Halifax 
(if we could,) and the wind yet against us. The thoughts 
of taking charge of this little vessel, and taking her 
to the United States, with all these difficulties to en¬ 
counter, together with the uncertainty of the weather, 


44 


MEMOIRS OF 


was extremely embarrassing. The inflexibility, folly 
and unfriendliness of old Mr. Loyd, increased my per¬ 
plexity and excited my grief, as well as my resentment. 
But he had very much the advantage of me, and I was 
obliged to submit to my fate. Night came on and when 
the sun sank from the western horizon, and the sable 
curtains of night were drawn around me, I retired to the 
cabin with Annis, with a deep gloom upon my mind.— 
My thoughts were much employed upon Captain Arnold, 
his wife and children. They lived within half a mile of 
my mother, yet I had but little acquaintance with them 
or with Captain Arnold himself, until within six or eight 
weeks. He considered himself as my guardian, (as did 
the worthy Captain Powers,) and was very partial to me, 
and I much respected him. I do not know that I slept 
any that night. I retraced the trials through which I 
had passed, and attempted to look forward, but all was 
darkness. It may well be thought that at that time of 
life I could cry; but whether I attempted to look to God 
for protection and direction, I cannot now say. 

The next day the wind was more favourable but rath¬ 
er light. We got under weigh. Annis could assist me 
in getting up the anchor, and hoisting the sails, but he 
knew not how to trim them to the wind, nor could he 
steer. Common sense may judge whether I was to steer 
this little vessel all the way to the United States. It is 
true that Annis might in a few days learn to steer his 
trick, as the sailor calls his tour at the helm, but it must 
devolve on me to stand at the helm all the succeeding 
night. At about noon we discovered a ship, and soon 
ascertained that she wished to speak with us ; she chas¬ 
ed us several hours, but the wind djing away, she sent 
her boats. They took Mr. Loyd on board and examined 
him. She was an armed vessel of about eighteen or 
twenty guns, and no doubt she was an American priva¬ 
teer, but was not honorable enough to let us know what 
she was, or who commanded her. The boat which 
boarded us,, plundered us of some fishing nets, lines, kc. 
and let us pass. 

Towards night I spoke with Loyd and entreated him. 
to consider my situation ; that I should be obliged to 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


45 


stand at the helm all night; I plead with him to let Sam¬ 
uel Wilds come on board with me, and take Annis 
on board with him. To this he agreed, and Wilds con¬ 
sented, greatly to my relief. Mr. Loyd could not 
have compelled Wilds to have left his own vessel, and 
there could be no doubt that Annis would prefer taking 
his chance with an old sailor. 

Early in the evening, we had something of a breeze, 
and it continued to increase, and by midnight we had 
quite a gale, and our vessel seemed to labor hard. The 
night was dark ; neither moon or stars could be seen. 
We could not “ cast anchors out of the stern,” as did 
Paul’s company off’Malta. We no doubt as earnestly 
wished for day as they did, and when the day arose, al¬ 
though so desirable, yet it was only to discover to us 
more visibly our danger. Our consort was about half 
a mile ahead of us ; the clouds looked wild and ocean 
rough. We had lost our boat which was towing at our 
stern. At about sunrise we split our mainsail from top 
to bottom, and with difficulty got it down and secured it. 
At that moment we were obliged to put away before the 
wind, and scud under a whole foresail which was almost 
new. It would have been much in our favor if our fore¬ 
sail had been reefed, which would have reduced it at 
least a quarter part ; but it was impracticable for one 
boy to get this sail down, reef it, and set it again ; our 
foremast was now in great danger from having so much 
sail upon it, for the wind was not steady but blew in 
gusts, and when a heavy gust came, our foremast would 
bend like a whip. Our vessel being heavy laded, labor¬ 
ed hard in so rough a sea, which occasioned her to leak 
so much as to keep one of us bailing most of the time, 
while the other must stand at the helm. 

It was not a little distressing to be under the necessi¬ 
ty of leaving the other shallop, for we were dependant on 
Loyd to pilot us along the eastern shore. We were 
now scudding before the wind ; they were steering 
nearly at right angles from us, but in less than half an 
hour they were obliged to put away also : this was an 
alleviation to our distress for a short season, but we were 
soon depressed again. The gale increased and of course 


46 


MEMOIRS OF 


the sea was more boisterous, and the leak increased ; 
we wore very fearful that we could not weather the gale, 
and every moment expected that our mast and sail 
would go over the bow; and in that case, we should 
have foundered in a few minutes. At about 12 o’clock, 
we discovered land directly ahead of us; it proved to be 
a small island, and it seemed impossible for us to avoid 
running right on it, and in that case we must have been 
dashed to pieces at the first blow. 

It now seemed as if our fate was sealed. We ven¬ 
tured to bear off a little but could not possibly look clear 
of the island. The time now was short ere our case 
would be determined, for we were running at least at 
the rate of twelve or fourteen miles an hour. The oth¬ 
er shallop was on our starboard beam, at least a half a 
mile distant, and could easily clear away the island. It 
was not perhaps more than fifty rods diameter. It was 
our constant care to haul as much as possible to the 
right, and some times we could just look by ; I kept the 
helm all the while by Wilds’ request, as he considered 
rne the best helmsman. As we drew near the island 
our case looked more favorable ; when we got within a 
mile of the island we could look just clear of it. This 
circumstance I think must have been owing to the cur¬ 
rent, which must have been setting to the west at that 
time. There was, however, a reef of rocks, which ran 
oft'from the island, over which we must and did pass 
without striking, and cleared the island perhaps about 
twenty yards, and as soon as we passed it drew imme¬ 
diately up under its lee : had we been twenty yards fur¬ 
ther from the island, where the rocks seemed to be the 
nearest to the surface of the water, we should have stove 
in pieces. Mr. Loyd with the other shallop passed just 
without the reef, which did not extend more than sixty or 
seventy yards from the island. We all arrived about 
the same time and came to anchor in a small cove, with¬ 
in thirty yards of the shore, and in about ten fathoms of 
water. The shore was very bold, and the island a little 
mound. Thus in the kind providence of God, we were 
delivered from a most perilous condition. I can hardly 
gay how my mind was occupied about a future state ; 


ANDREW SHERBURNE, 


47 


under such circumstances sailors generally exert every 
power to save the body, and too often without any regard 
for the immortal soul. 

I perfectly recollect that I was awfully afraid of death, 
nor can I bring again to view the danger 1 was in, 
without shuddering and admiring the kind and merci¬ 
ful interposition of a gracious God. It is utterly impos¬ 
sible, however, lor me to describe in full, the alternate 
hopes and fears which pervaded my mind during that 
dangerous scene. 

It was now more than twenty-four hours since I had 
taken any food, and I presume that this was the case 
with most of the company : it w as therefore an objed 
to get some refreshment as soon as practicable. 

We hove over a hook and line and very soon drew in 
a large halibut, and doubtless could have taken in an 
hundred, if we had been disposed. One however an¬ 
swered our purpose, and w r e soon had some cookery 
going on while congratulating each other on our escape 
from destruction. We laid the two shallops as near each 
other as we dared, for although there was no sea, there 
w'as a very heavy swell. Although we seemed secure 
in this place, if the wind had shifted and blown from the 
opposite point, nothing could have saved us. 

It was not our intention however to continue long in 
this place. Tw o nights had now passed, and 1 had got 
no sleep, and was quite worn down with anxiety and fa¬ 
tigue. It w r as very appalling to notice in what quick 
succession my conflicts rushed upon me; occasionally I 
would think of the gloom which so depressed my spirit* 
in York harbour. Wilds tarried with me that night,but 
told me he should not go to sea again in that shallop.— 
I found it necessary to secure his confidence and friend¬ 
ship, and I had no great pains to take in doing 
this, for I found we were of the same opinion. It 
was my determination to quit the shallop in case that 
Wilds did. I therefore brought him to this agreement, 
that upon his honor he would not oppose my going on 
board Loyd’s shallop. I had nothing to fear from Babb 
or Annis, but I expected to find Mr. Loyd of a hostile 
temper. He was a man probably fifty years of age ; and 


43 


MEMOIRS OF 


although I had but one night’s rest in four, I did not 
sleep much on this night, knowing what must take place 
on the morrow. 

On the next morning it was quite pleasant We got 
breakfast early, and the shallops were drawn so near 
each other that we could pass from one to the other.—* 
Wilds went on board his own vessel again ; I went also. 
I asked Mr. Loyd what we should do ? “Do,” said he, 

“why I must help you mend your mainsail, and try it 
again.” 1 remonstrated against the measure and ob¬ 
served that Wilds declined continuing with me, and that 
it was out of the question to think of getting both of the 
shallops home, and finally told him plainly that I had 
quit, and was determined to make no further attempt on 
board of her, and was determined to stay on board his 
vessel. He began to swear and threaten me ; I retorted 
and told him that I disregarded his threats, and that I 
was willing to be in subjection and to do my duty. No 
one interfered, and the old gentleman began to be mod¬ 
erate, but was determined to take the other shallop in 
tow. In short we got under weigh, had but a light 
breeze, and in the course of an hour or two discovered 
a small schooner making towards us ; we had various 
conjectures respecting her. We sometimes thought 
whether it might not be another prize that the privateer 
had taken. Shortly, however, most of us were rather in¬ 
clined to think it was an enemy. She continued to gain 
upon us and we discovered that her crew were rowing ; 
we were all convinced she was an enemy, except Mr. 
Loyd. We tried to persuade him to cut the shallop 
adrift, and try to be off with one, but he declined.— 
They soon began to fire upon us, with long buccanier 
pieces, into which they put eight or ten musket balls for 
a charge. The first time they fired they did not strike 
us, but we heard their bullets whistle over our heads ; 
the second time their charge went through the head of 
our mainsail, and the third time it went through the mid¬ 
dle of our mainsail. The old gentleman thought it was 
time to heave to, in order to ascertain who were our vis¬ 
itors. In a few moments they were along side of us, and 
twenty men sprang on board with these long guns in 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


49 


their hands, loaded, cocked and primed, and presented 
two or three at each of our breasts, without ceremony, 
cursing us bitterly, and threatening our lives; we plead 
for quarters, but they with violence reprimanded us, and 
seemed determined to take our lives, after they had suf¬ 
ficiently gratified themselves with the most bitter impre¬ 
cations that language could afford. There were one or 
two who interceded for us. One of these was their com¬ 
mander, but their entreaties seemed to increase the 
rage of some of the others. We stood trembling and 
awaiting their decisions, not presuming to remonstrate, 
for some of them seemed like perfect furies. At length 
their captain and several others who appeared more ra¬ 
tional, prevailed on those heady fellows to forbear their 
rashness. Their first business was to get their prizes 
under way for their own port or harbor, which was call¬ 
ed Grandbank. 

By this time, say two or three o’clock P. M. there was 
quite a pleasant breeze. The Newfoundlanders (for I 
am inclined for the present, to forbear calling them Eng¬ 
lish, or the Irish,) made it their business to go into par¬ 
ticular inquiries respecting what had transpired with us 
since we left the bay. They having some of us on board 
each vessel: Capt. Arnold had a copy of the privateer’s 
commission; this paper I had preserved, though I could 
not read it. The wind being fair, we arrived at Grand¬ 
bank before night, and almost the whole village were 
collected to see the Yankee prisoners. We were taken 
on shore, and soon surrounded, perhaps, by a hundred 
people. Amongst them was an old English lady of dis¬ 
tinction, who appeared to have an excellent education, 
and to whose opinion and instructions they all seemed to 
pay an especial deference. She was the only person 
amongst them who inquired after papers. Mr. Loyd had 
none; I did not know that he or any other person present, 
knew that it was necessary that we should have papers,ex¬ 
cept this old lady. I presented the papers I had preserved; 
this lady took them, and commenced reading them audi¬ 
bly, and without interruption, until she read the clause in 
the privateer’s letter of marque and reprisal,which author- 
5 


50 


MEMOIRS OF 


ized to “burn, sink, or destroy,” &c. &c. Many of the 
people became so exceedingly exasperated, that they 
swore we ought to be killed outright. They were chief¬ 
ly West countrymen and Irishmen; rough,and quite un¬ 
cultivated, and were in a state of complete anarchy; 
there was neither magistrate nor minister among them; 
they appeared very loyal, however, to his Majesty. 

The old lady interposed, and soon called them to or¬ 
der: she informed them that we were prisoners of war, 
and ought to be treated with humanity, and conveyed to 
a British armed station. She then went on with her 
reading and closed without further interruption. 

This good woman gave direction and they began to 
prepare some refreshment for us; they hung on a pot and 
boiled some corned codfish and salted pork: when it was 
sufficiently boiled, they took the pot out of doors, where 
there was a square piece of board which had a cleat on 
each edge, the corners being open, they then turned the 
pot upside dow r n upon the board, and when the water was 
sufficiently drained away, the board was set on a table 
or rather a bench, something higher than a common ta¬ 
ble, and the company stood round this table without 
plates or forks; they had fish knives to cut their pork, 
but generally picked up the fish with their fingers, and 
had hard baked biscuit for their bread generally. 

Having taken our refreshment, we were conducted 
into a cooper’s shop and locked up, the windows secured 
and a guard placed outside. We endeavored to com¬ 
pose ourselves as Weil as we could, but remained igno¬ 
rant how we were to be disposed of. 

The next morning we were put on board a shallop, 
and confined in the fish room, which was a very uncom¬ 
fortable place; every thing was taken from us, except 
what we had upon our backs, even our shoes were taken 
from our feet. We were taken up the bay to a small 
harbor, called Cornish; this was the residence of Charles 
Grandy, whom we had captured when we first came on 
the coast; nor did he forget the kindness he had received 
from us; he appeared willing to have done more for us than 
was in his power to do. He presented us with a large 
Hour loaf and a plate of butter. He seemed to be gene¬ 
ralissimo of this little port; there were but few fam- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


51 


ilies here, and they all appeared to be in Charley’s 
service. 

Having taken our refreshment, we were locked up in 
a warehouse, and carefully guarded. Next morning we 
took an early breakfast, furnished by our good friend 
Grandy, whose partiality towards us was evidently dis¬ 
gusting to some of our guard. 

We were taken six or eight miles up a river, and 
landed, in order to strike across the cape to Placentia 
bay. We were guarded by seven sturdy fellows, with 
their long muskets; some of them were very rude, and 
not a little abusive; they called the distance from For¬ 
tune bay over to Placentia bay, twenty miles; it passed 
through a most dreary wilderness. The timber in general 
was small, but there was an abundance of briars and 
craggy underbrush, which was very injurious to our feet 
and legs, our shoes having been taken from us; nor were 
we any ways equal to those deer hunters in travelling 
this wilderness. Poor old Mr. Loyd was most to be 
pitied, for he began to lag early in the day, and frequent¬ 
ly received heavy blows with the breeches of their guns. 
In the course of the day we each received a hard biscuit 
and a small slice of raw pork. This however could not 
be considered very hard tare, but our journey was ex¬ 
ceedingly fatiguing. It was night when we got over to 
the shore of Placentia bay, and were yet four or five 
miles from a little station, where there was a small bat¬ 
tery and a few regular soldiers. The little port when 
we arrived, was occupied by a rich old Jerseyman who 
had a considerable number of shallops and fishermen 
employed in his service, and some of them had been 
treated rudely by American privateers; the old man was 
exceedingly exasperated when he ascertained that we 
were American prisoners, and insisted that we ought to 
be immediately put to death. He protested that he 
would not supply us with any thing to eat, or any shel¬ 
ter for the night. But our guard received their instruc¬ 
tions from the good old lady at Grandbank, and they 
threatened to present him to his Majesty’s officers. The 
old man abruptly quitted them, and went to his house. 
The guard took possession of his brew house in which 


52 


MEMOIRS OF 


lie had brewed that day, the floor was wet and very mud¬ 
dy. I went out and broke off my arms full of fir and 
spruce boughs for my bed, (I should have preferred the 
bare floor if it had been dry,) and lay me down to rest, 
for I was exceedingly tired and sore. Some of the 
guard were busy in getting something to eat, and I fell 
asleep. They procured a plenty of corned codfish, and 
boiled it; one of them came to me, gave me a shake and 
bade me arise and eat my supper. Although I had had 
so scanty a dinner, I was so extremely tired that I de¬ 
clined getting up, but he gave me a pretty heavy thump, 
saying, with an oath, “get up you Yankee, and take 
vour supper.” I thought it best without further cere¬ 
mony, to comply with his commands ; I arose and went 
to the table; it was sufficiently long for our whole com¬ 
pany to stand round it. Our supper was served up in 
the same style as at Grandbank, that is, on several pieces 
of board fitted for the purpose. We had several saucers 
of sweet oil; there were neither plates, knives or forks, 
on the tables; each took some fish in his fingers and dip¬ 
ped it in the oil and ate it. 

With my eyes half open, and not a little disgusted at 
being disturbed from my sweet repose, I took hold of 
some fish with my thumb and fingers,dipped it into the oil 
as the others did, and put it into my mouth, but had great 
difficulty in swallowing it, it was so offensive to my taste ; 
I ate a few mouthfuls of the fish without oil, and a small 
piece of ship bread, and very gladly returned to my bed 
of boughs again, and slept soundly all night. In the 
morning, we had to walk four or five miles to the little 
battery, (I think the place was called u Morteer;”) but 
our walk was much more distressing than it had been the 
day before; we were very stiff when we began our 
march; our feet were exceedingly sore and our way ex¬ 
tremely rough. We had to pass over a promontory, 
the ascent was difficult and tiresome, and the descent 
even dangerous: in some places very steep, and in oth¬ 
ers almost perpendicular. We had to catch and hold 
fast on the bushes, to prevent falling headlong upon the 
rocks below. Having arrived at Morteer,they fired one 
of their pieces of artillery for joy, that some Yankee 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


53 


prisoners had fallen into their hands, for they also had 
been visited by American privateers. I did not under¬ 
stand that the inhabitants had been molested, but their 
stores and shallops had been plundered. I believe we 
were the only prisoners who had been captured upon 
their coast. From this place, we were taken to another 
harbor, called Buren, (if I have not through forgetful¬ 
ness interchanged the names of these places,) where 
there was a large shallop going directly to Placentia.— 
We were put, on board and shortly set sail. Our guard 
of seven men returned to Fortune bay. The crew of 
the shallop consisted of three only, but had six of those 
long muskets loaded, and laying by them. The men 
appeared more humane than our former guard; and they 
having ascertained that we had had no breakfast, hove 
to, and in a very few minutes hauled in several fine 
codfish, which they boiled with some pork. 

This with some ship bread, furnished us with a good 
breakfast and was much more palatable to me than was 
my supper the night before. We were all kept forward, 
and not permitted to come near the quarter deck, where 
lay the loaded guns. The distance to Placentia, I think 
was something like twenty or twenty-five leagues; the 
wind was fair, and we had just about as much as could 
be wished for, and the weather very pleasant. We 
arrived at Placentia some time before night: one of the 
men went on shore in their skiff, and gave information 
of us, and shortly the government boat came off, and 
took us on shore, to the commissary’s house. We were 
conducted into a room by ourselves, and in a few min¬ 
utes the commissary came in with several other gen¬ 
tlemen, who examined us particularly. They ap¬ 
peared to be gentlemen of refined sensibility ; they 
deeply regretted the unhappy discord which existed 
between the mother country and the colonies; their feel¬ 
ings were much hurt at seeing the condition of our feet, 
and gave us some stockings and shoes. The commissa¬ 
ry informed us that we must take up our residence in gar¬ 
rison. He withdrew and sent us in some flour loaves, and 
butter. Soon after we had eaten our bread and butter, 
we heard the sound of the bagpipes at the door, and a 
5 * 


56 


MEMOIRS OF 


parents. (She had two children of her own.) On our 
return from our first excursion up the river, which gen¬ 
erally took us most part of the day, we were sent into 
the Governor’s kitchen, and furnished with a good sup¬ 
per; this was the more acceptable as our allowance of 
provisions was rather scant. Mrs. Hawkins was al¬ 
ways careful whenever we went up the river to give u 
some supper. After we had been several times up the 
river, we were all allowed to walk in the yard by day, 
but could not go out of the yard without a guard. We 
went out however on no occasion except to bring water 
from an excellent spring on the beach, which was thirty 
rods from the garrison. I do not know but what the 
whole town as well as the garrison, obtained their water 
from the same spring. 

It was perhaps sometime in May, 1731, that we came 
to this place, and the season passed away until Septem¬ 
ber, without any prospect of release. 




CHAPTER III. 

Col. Hawkins and Lady—Duchess of Cumberland comes 
into port — Mr. Bhggs impressed—Cast away on Cape 
St. Marxfs—Sufferings in the Wilderness—Dead 
men picked up and buried—Arrive at Placentia — Im¬ 
prisoned again and put on board sloop of war Fairy —. 
Doomed to serve his Majesty — Whipped — Mr. Fox — 
Arrives in England—Put on board the Admirals 
ship Dunkirk—Court of Admiralty—Committed to 
Mill Prison for rebcllion y Syc.—Arrives at Mill 
Prison. 

About the middle of September, there came in a 
twenty-two gun ship, called the Duchess of Cumber¬ 
land. She was built in Beverly, Massachusetts, and 
called the Congress ; had been captured by a British 
frigate that summer, and taken into his Majesty’s 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


57 


service. She came to Placentia, to convoy a number 
of English merchantmen, which came there to take in 
cargoes of fish tor Europe. While this ship lay in the 
harbor, one of her men deserted ; diligent search was 
made, but he could not be found. It was suspected 
that some of the inhabitants had concealed him, and the 
officers impressed one of the inhabitants by the name of 
Baggs, in his stead. Gov. Hawkins put us prisoners on 
board this ship, to be taken to St. John’s, the capital of 
Newfoundland, where there was a prison-ship, and a 
considerable number of prisoners, and it was expected 
that there would be a cartel sent from there to Boston 
that fall. Thus there appeared some prospect of our 
getting home again, but our hopes were shortly blasted. 

The ship put to sea, and on the second or third day 
we had something of a blow and rain; in the afternoon 
a strange sail was discovered, unto which we immedi¬ 
ately gave chase, but as the wind increased, and the 
ship was going out of her course, after about an hour 
the chase was given up. We hove about, reefed our 
topsails, got our starbourd tacks on board, and stood on 
our course. 

It became necessary to give Cape St. Mary’s a birth; 
the wind increased and it became necessary to close reef 
the topsails. At about three or four o’clock, they thought 
best to put the ship away a little, supposing they had 
passed the Cape. Mr. Baggs had been skipper of a shal¬ 
lop for twenty years, he was therefore invited to take 
his station on the forecastle, the station of the most ac¬ 
complished seamen: the forecastlemen by turns steer 
the ship, and when the helm was relieved at four o’clock, 
Mr. Baggs asked the helmsman what course they were 
running, and when he ascertained the course, said he, 
if we run that course two hours, the ship will be on 
shore.” At this the sailors were alarmed and advised 
Baggs to give this information to the officers on the quar¬ 
ter deck. He went aft and informed the officers that he 
was well acquainted with the coast, and that in his 
judgment, the ship and their lives were in danger. 

But those British officers were as little inclined to 
hearken to the advice of a Newfoundland fisherman, as 


MEMOIRS OY 


58 

Gen. Braddock was to be influenced by the more dis¬ 
creet Washington. “ Fine times,” said Braddock, 
“ when a young Buckskin can teach a British General 
how to fight.” If he hadcondescended to have been advis¬ 
ed by the brave Washington, he might probably have sav¬ 
ed his life and been victorious; and if the officers had 
hearkened to Baggs, they might have saved the ship 
and many lives; but they treated him with abusive lan¬ 
guage and ordered him off the quarter deck, or they 
would kick him off. Mr. Baggs went forward not a lit¬ 
tle chagrined; the sailors forward kept a good look out, 
but the weather was so thick that they could see but a 
very short distance. 

I have now to record one of the most eventful periods 
of my life. Pen cannot describe, nor can imagination 
conceive, the terrific scene of a shipwreck, like the one 
I shall attempt to describe. It must be experienced to 
be comprehended. 

On the 19th of September, 1781, at about 5 o’clock, 
P. M. there were loud and repeated cries from the 
forecastle, ‘ breakers on the lee bow /’ ‘ breakers ahead 
This doleful sound caused every ear to tingle, and every 
heart to thrill! Immediately from the quarter deck the 
following sea phrase was heard, pronounced with em¬ 
phasis, u stand by to about ship , hard to lee, fore sheet, 
fore top bowline, jib and staysail sheets let go!” The 
ship immediately rounded to, head to the wind ; but 
before the foretopsail could possibly be filled on the oth¬ 
er tack, the violence of the wind and waves giving the 
ship stern way, she was precipitated, (stern first,) against 
a rugged bluff of rocks, which was, I should judge, fif¬ 
teen or twenty feet above water, almost perpendicular, 
having some shelves and crags, however; two men who 
were near the taffrel sprang from the taffrel rail on a 
shelf of the rock. 

The ship struck with such violence as to break off her 
rudder and knock the man overboard, who was at the 
helm; a fourth attempted to reach the rock but failed 
and went overboard. The two who fell overboard were 
immediately dashed against the rock and disappeared. 

The ship was no longer to be governed, we were all 
at the mercy of the waves. All was confusion, conster- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE, 


59 


nation and despair. The ship stuck fast upon a craggy 
rock which lay under water, about twice her length 
from the shore, and probably broke in some of 
her floor timbers. All this took place before half the 
people who were below, got upon deck, which was near¬ 
ly one half of the crew. I was going up the fore hatch¬ 
way when she struck on this rock, and looking down 
in the hold, I saw 'the water gushing up with violence, 
(through the gravel in which the lower tier of water casks 
were stowed,) in a stream eight or ten inches in diam¬ 
eter. I with difficulty gained the quarter deck. A 
most terrifying scene was now presented to my view. 
The ship rolled so that her yard arms nearly touched the 
water: the sea was breaking feather white all around us. 
Under the fog bank which hung over the shore, we 
could discover the mountain, but could not see the top 
of it; the wind was heavy and increasing; the rain de¬ 
scended in torrents; the sea roaring like thunder; night 
coming on apace, some of the officers raving and swear¬ 
ing, some crying, and others praying, some inactive and 
desponding, others active and courageous. The long 
boat was got out, but by the time she struck the water, 
there came a heavy sea and crushed her against the 
ship’s side, as quick as you could crush an egg shell in 
your hand. 

The ship was now laboring extremely, and fast fill¬ 
ing with water, nor did there appear the least prospect 
or possibility of another person’s being saved, and those 
upon the rock appeared not to have any prospect of re¬ 
lease, but to be doomed to see all the remainder of their 
shipmates perish. With regard to myself, I might say 
with Watts, 

“ The tumult of my thoughts, 

Held me in hard suspense.” 

Orders w r ere given to cut aw’ay the masts ; after two 
or three blows the mainmast went by the board, the fore¬ 
mast and mizen-mast also followed without a stroke.— 
On the fall of our masts, the ship cleared from the rock, 
on which she had been some time hanging, and drifted 
towards the shore, thumping against the rocks which lay 
under water, with tremendous force, and thereby throw- 


00 


MEMOIRS OF 


ing us about and against each other at a most dreadful 
rate. In this place the wind did not blow directly on 
shore, but we were drifting into a sort of cove where the 
shore was dead to the leeward of us, and almost perpen¬ 
dicular for twenty or thirty feet. In our course we were 
brought up by some rocks, which were so near the sur¬ 
face of the water, that the ship could not get over them; 
she lay nearly parrallel with the shore against where she 
lay, and careening considerably towards the shore ; ev- 
ry sea that came gave her a tremendous shock. Her 
decks began to open in some places, sufficiently wide 
for a man to go through into the hold ; every sea that 
came would lift her stern considerably. Our ship was 
in some respects circumstanced like that in which Paul 
the apostle was wrecked, on the Isle of Malta, for u the 
fore part stuck fast and remained immovable, but the 
hinder part was broken with the violence of the waves.'” 
There were five prisoners of us on board, but I heard of 
no council to put us to death, for there was not the 
probability or even possibility of our escape by swim¬ 
ming ; and it was equally impossible for any one to save 
himself on “ boards, or broken pieces of the ship.” 

It became necessary, however, to contrive some meth¬ 
od of escape; swearing was yet continued, and praying 
also continued; for my own part, I believe I did not vo¬ 
cally employ myself in either. By the time the ship 
stuck fast, the two sailors who jumped on the rocks, had 
with great difficulty got nearly abreast of us. 

A small spar was procured and a large rope, say an 
inch and a half in diameter; the rope was made fast to 
the spar and hove over the stern ; the waves carried the 
spar on shore, but not within the reach of the men on 
shore; of course it was drawn on board again. I think 
this was repeated three or four times before the men on 
shore succeeded in getting it; they made it fast round a 
rock as large as a small hay stack, the sailors on board 
drew it as straight as they could, and made it fast round 
the stump of the foremast. 

Abreast of the ship there was a small gravelly beach, 
not much more than the length of the ship, with some 
large rocks upon it, but the wind did not blow directly 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


61 


towards this beach, by as much perhaps as three or four 
points of the compass. 

It was judged that the ship lay about eight rods from 
the shore at right angles, but the distance was something 
more right ahead from the ship; for as soon as this little 
beach terminated, the shore began to haul out again, and 
had the ship been driven over the reef which she struck 
upon, she must have gone ashore in going three times 
her length, where she must have gone to pieces in less 
than twenty minutes, and where a soul could not have 
been saved. The rope which I mentioned being pre¬ 
pared, there seemed some small degree of hope, though 
when the waves ran, they would bury it ten feet or more 
under water, for it was drawn so straight that it could 
not rise with the sea. 

A man attempted to go on shore by this rope, and ap¬ 
peared to succeed very well until he got a rod and a half, 
or two rods from the ship, and when he got so far that 
the ship did not break any of the violence of the waves, 
he was soon washed off, and was immediately dashed 
against the rocks, and the next sea buried him and he 
was seen no more. The next who attempted went the 
same way. It is probable that they exerted themselves 
too much at first, and were considerably exhausted when 
they came to that place, where the most strength was 
needed. (This thought however did not occur to me 
at that time.) The ship could not have been placed in a 
more favorable position to facilitate our escape; she was 
completely bound by large craggy rocks, some of which 
had penetrated several feet into her bottom; her stern 
lay rather the highest, and her larboard quarter broke 
the waves. The crew were huddled forward, upon and 
under the forecastle. The fate of the two men who had 
been washed off from the rope, seemed for some time to 
discourage any farther attempt. At length, however, a 
third adventured, and succeeded in getting on shore, and 
was joyfully received by the two first who got on shore; 
a fourth made an attempt and was lost. I think that the 
fifth, sixth, and seventh succeeded in getting on shore. 

Our situation appeared more and more gloomy as 
night was fast approaching. There were several lads 
who were midshipmen; they seemed inclined to make 
6 


62 


MEMOIRS OF 


an attempt again and again, but recoiled: their bitter 
cries and lamentations were enough to pierce the hard¬ 
est hearts. I began to think of trying myself, but there 
was but a faint hope of success. I believe there had 
ten reached the shore by the rope, and four had been 
washed off. I buttoned up my outside jacket, drew my 
shirt out of my trowsers; I had on my head an old fash¬ 
ioned Dutch cap, which went on very tight. As I could 
swim tolerably well, I flattered myself that it would be 
in my favor; I took hold of the rope and fell into the wa¬ 
ter, but soon perceived that I could derive no benefit 
from the use of my legs, the water being in such an agi¬ 
tated state. The first swell and wave which run was in 
some measure obstructed by the ship, it however buried 
me for a short time. When the second sea came, I was 
exposed to its whole violence; while it was running it 
seemed as if I should have been pressed to death, and 
the time seemed exceedingly long. I was hanging by 
my hands and stretched as straight horizontally, as if I 
had been suspended in the air; but before the current 
abated, my right hand gave way, and was carried back 
in a moment. O the multiplicity of thoughts that rush¬ 
ed into my distracted mind! One among the many was 
that the left hand would continue its hold until I should 
drown; another was that I must directly appear before 
my Judge. I felt my left hand and arm faultering, and 
I expected to be immediately in eternity; I wished to 
express a thousand desires in one, and I felt disposed to 
cast myself on the mercy of God. O the awful solemni¬ 
ties of eternity! But I am laboring in vain, for I can¬ 
not possibly express what my feelings were. God spar¬ 
ed me. The undertow swept me under the rope; I 
hove my right arm over the rope and instantly griped 
fast hold the collar of my jacket and other clothes, and 
after taking breath, made all possible exertion to draw 
myself towards the shore, before another sea should 
come. The third wave stretched me, but having my 
arm over the rope, I was better fortified, nor was it bv 
any means so violent as the second, and when it went 
back it left me suspended by the rope, and I could al¬ 
most touch the hideous ragged rocks with my feet, but 
durst not let go ray hold, because the men on shore 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


C3 


could not yet afford me any assistance. The fourth 
wave floated me a little nearer to the shore, but its 
strength was almost spent before it reached me. As 
soon as it withdrew, two sailors followed it, each holding 
on the rope with one hand, they each took hold on me 
with one hand, drew me upon the beach; they laid me 
down on my back, and left me. I was perfectly help¬ 
less; I had not strength for a time to move hand or foot. 
After a while I found by struggling to get upon my side, 
I with difficulty succeeded, and got so as to set up, but 
could not yet get upon my feet. It was now near sun¬ 
down. I cast my eyes upon the wreck. I thought I 
felt truly thankful to God for such a preservation and 
deliverance. I promised henceforward to serve him; 
but alas, the depravity of the human heart! By the 
time I was able to walk, they had found out a better 
method to get the men on shore. The man who first 
went ashore by the rope was uncommonly strong; he had 
the courage to go on board again. He was an officer, 
but I do not now recollect either his name or his rank; he 
and other officers contrived to haul the men ashore with 
small ropes; he fixed a traveller on the rope, by which 
he first went on shore, so that he could not wash off, and 
took with him a small rope which was sufficiently long 
to reach the shore ; the end on the wreck was made fast 
round a man’s body, and another equally as long fixed 
to it; the man then fell into the water, and the men on 
shore would run with their end, and those on board 
would pay out, taking care to keep the rope taut, to pre¬ 
vent the man from dashing against the rocks. Having 
got one of these ropes on shore, it was easy to fix others. 

By the time I was able to walk down to the edge of 
the water, they were hauling five or six men at once on 
different ropes. They would not be longer drawing a 
man on shore than while a person might walk eight rods 
with a quick step. There were more than a hundred 
men drawn on shore in this way. Some of them were 
considerably bruised, however. But the darkness came 
on before all could be got ashore in this way, and there 
were probably thirty yet on the wreck, which could not 
now be seen. Mr Loyd and Annis were among the 
number. 


64 


MEMOIRS OF 


Our next object was to render our situation as com¬ 
fortable as circumstances would permit. We soon as¬ 
certained that we could not ascend the mountain. The 
rain and wind continued, and we were entirely without 
shelter. With some difficulty we ascended the moun¬ 
tain about ten or fifteen yards and came to a kind of 
hollow, but there was not sufficient room for us all to 
lie down, without laying one upon another, and this we 
found to be most in our favor, for although it was quite 
uncomfortable for one man to have one or two others 
laying on him, it was better than to be all the while mo¬ 
tionless and exposed to the storm. Sometimes there 
were two laying upon me; sometimes one under me, 
and another on me, and sometimes I had two under me. 
We were, however, obliged frequently to interchange 
our stations, for when underneath we were too hardly 
pressed^ to long endure the weight upon us; and when 
outside the rain and cold was very severe. We were 
frequently annoyed by the feet of those who lay above 
us, and those below us had the same inconvenience to 
endure from us. Sometimes those that lay the lowest 
down where the ground was more steep, would slip 
down several in a cluster, and slide even to the beach, 
among the rocks, and on those occasions they did not 
forget to swear. 

On the whole we had a very uncomfortable night, 
and probably as anxiously “ wished for the day,’* as did 
Paul and his shipmates, nor can we reasonably suppose 
that those on the wreck were less anxious. 

About two o’clock in the morning, the rain abated, 
and the wind shifted, and very soon after the ocean be* 
came less noisy. As day light appeared it was our first 
care to ascertain whether the ship had gone to pieces, or 
whether she remained in her old station. We were not 
a little rejoiced to find that she still remained. Many 
of us were so chilled that we could not stand upon our 
feet. The sun arose clear and warm, and by exercising 
ourselves on the little beach, we soon found our activity 
restored. We could converse with those who remained 
on the wreck, and had a prospect of easily getting 
on board, when the tide, which was now fast falling, 
should be down. The masts and spars which before lay 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


65 

ahead of the ship, had worked round and lay between 
the ship and the shore. It now became an object to as¬ 
certain where we were, and how to get away. Should 
any one hereafter feel interested in reading this narra¬ 
tive, it would without doubt be desirable to have a de¬ 
scription of this place; I shall therefore attempt to give 
as clear a description as I can. 

W e were on the eastern side of Cape St. Mary ’s, per¬ 
haps ten miles from the pitch, or head of the cape. Our 
station was against the side of a mountain whose per¬ 
pendicular height was perhaps five or six hundred feet, 
and generally so steep and abounding with breaks and 
precipices, that it was very difficult for a man to ascend 
it in any place, and in some places it was utterly im¬ 
practicable. The shore in general very bold; and it 
is what sailors generally call an iron bound shore. In 
some places the rocks were almost perpendicular, ten, 
twenty, and sometimes forty feet high. The reef on 
which our ship stuck fast, appears to me to have slid out 
of the mountain, some hundred years ago. It might 
have been at the time when the adorable Jesus hung upon 
the cross. 

At half tide and in fair weather, the tops of the rocks 
on this reef were bare, and it extended ten or twelve rods 
into the sea where it came to a point, and in the base 
of this reef by the shore was five or six rods wide, and 
formed a pleasant beach. The shore in this place was 
a little indented. If our ship had been two rods further 
from the shore she must have passed without this reef, 
and in that case, have fallen directly on a lee shore, 
where she must have gone to pieces in a very little 
time, in a place where it would have been impossible for 
one soul to have landed. Nothing excited more aston¬ 
ishment than to comprehend how it was, that the two 
men who first jumped on the rocks, got from that place 
to the beach. 

At about 8 or 9 o’clock, some men got on the wreck, 
and soon after I went on myself, but did not perceive 
much difference in appearance, since the time I left her 
but when the tide went fully down, 1 went into the hold, 
which was entirely empty. Every cask, all her ballast, 
and every other article was washed out, and in gome 
6 * 


66 


MEMOIRS OF 


places were very large chasms. The arm chest on the 
weather side of the quarter deck, remained unhurt. 
There was found in one of the state rooms, about two 
hundred pounds of bread, unhurt; and in the harness 
cask, under the forecastle, there was about two hundred 
pounds of meat, principally pork. 

After we had eaten some bread and raw meat, a com¬ 
pany of five or six men was selected, and furnished with 
an iron bar or two, which were found in the beckets, 
and some small rigging, and directed to endeavor to 
find their way up the mountain. In a zig zag direction 
they reached the summit, and then came down as far as 
they could with safety, stuck the crowbar into the ground 
and made fast a rope to it, and then descended by the 
rope; making one rope fast to another until they got 
down. In the arm chest before mentioned, there were 
a number of muskets, some ammunition, tomahawks, 
cutlasses, &c. In the sailors’ hammocks, which hung 
under the gun deck, were found a number of blankets, 
so that every man could be furnished with one; and all 
the provisions having been got on shore,every man took 
some, and all hands prepared to ascend the mountain. 
There was neither tree nor shrub to be seen. 

Mr. Baggs, whose counsel had been despised an hour 
before the ship struck, was now held in high estimation, 
and looked up to even by the Captain. That gentle¬ 
man’s name was Samuel Marsh, a man of respectability; 
he was not on deck when Baggs was treated ill, and it 
was said that the officers on deck, altered the ship’s 
course without his knowledge. 

It was said that the ship’s crew consisted of about 170, 
besides five prisoners. I do not recollect exactly the 
number which were lost; it was 1 think short of twenty. 
Some I believe were so presumptuous as to attempt to 
swim to shore and were lost. There was one woman on 
board, she was the cook’s wife, and was saved without 
injury; a traveller being fixed on the great rope, she was 
drawn on shore in haste. 

Some of the ship’s sails were got on shore, and a tent 
erected for her accommodation. Her husband, one of 
the surgeon’s mates, and several others were left in this 
place. This woman was delivered of a child in a day or 


ANDREW SHERBURNE 


67 


two after, and in a few days they were all taken off by 
some fishing shallops. 

It was perhaps one or two o’clock when we began to 
ascend the mountain. In going up this mountain, I had 
ascended a precipice fifteen or twenty feet, and had got 
on eight or ten yards, where the ground was so steep 
that 1 could not walk without holding on by the rope.— 
Some one having jerked the rope out of my hands, I fell 
on my face, and was sliding fast down, and had got with¬ 
in twice my length of the edge of the precipice; a sailor 
who had just got up, clapped his foot upon me, and held 
me until I got hold of the rope again. Had I fallen oft' 
these rocks, it would probably have killed me. 

When I reached the summit of the mountain, I found 
myself on the border of a spacious plain. Looking north¬ 
erly and westerly, a man might be seen a mile off. Not 
a tree or shrub could be seen. In a southern direction 
within a mile and a half, was a wilderness of evergreens. 
The surface of the ground was covered with a long thick 
moss, in which our feet would sink six inches at every 
step. 

In looking down on the ship, she did not appear big¬ 
ger than a long boat. We took up our march for the 
wood, our company something like a hundred and fifty. 
It was about sunset when we got to the woods. We 
tried to make some fire but had poor luck; there w r as no 
dry fuel to be had; the recent heavy rain had wet every 
thing, and it was very difficult to make a fire of green 
spruce and fir. We gathered boughs for our beds, for 
although the moss w as soft, it was very wet and cold. 
We stowed pretty close together, and covered ourselves 
with our blankets, yet we were very uncomfortable, for 
our clothes had scarcely got dry, and it was a frosty 
night. 

In the morning, the Captain and other officers had 
a long consultation with Mr. Baggs, respecting the route 
we should pursue. We were something like a hundred 
miles from Placentia, but I do not know what was the 
distance to St. Johns. It was concluded to shape our 
course for Piacen ia. On the next morning, orders wero 
given to have all the provisions collected together and 


68 


MEMOIRS OF 


each one, both officers and men, were to receive an 
equal allowance. 

It was thought necessary to remain where we were 
that day, in order that Mr. Baggs might examine the 
coast, for the purpose of settling some question in his 
own mind. Mr. Baggs and several others set off and on 
their return in the evening, brought the unpleasant in¬ 
telligence that the vessel which we had chased had gone 
entirely to pieces, and it was presumed that every soul 
was lost. On the morning following, we took up our 
march and kept along in the woods, until past noon; we 
then came upon the sea shore on the head of a bay 
called by Mr. Baggs, Distress bay. He told us that for 
the space of two or three leagues off, the water was not 
more than two fathoms deep, and that this bay abounded 
with rocks under water. 

It was supposed that this vessel must have gone en¬ 
tirely to pieces, several miles from the shore. We sup¬ 
posed her to have been a brig, and we knew her to have 
been an American built, for on the forehead of some of 
her carved images, the letters U. S. A. were carved. 
She might have been captured by the English, and in 
their service. There was no doubt but that she had 
been to the West Indies, for we found several hogsheads 
of rum upon the shore, and some of them not much in¬ 
jured. The officers with tomahawks cut holes in those 
casks, and poured all the rum out, lest the sailors should 
be tempted to linger behind for the sake of the rum. 
No man was allowed to drink a drop, nor did the officers 
take any. The remains of this vessel were scattered 
a mile or more on the shore. We picked up fourteen 
men and a boy about twelve or fourteen years old. We 
dragged them up on the bank, (for the shore here was 
low,) and with staves dug a grave two or three feet 
deep, and buried them as decently as in our circum¬ 
stances we could. 

The only provision we found was a lump of butter; 
it had been in a keg, but that was stove to pieces and the 
sand was beat into the butter several inches. This 
part which was so damaged was scraped off, and the good 
we took along with us. We spent several hours about 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


69 


this wreck. The largest piece that we found was three 
or four planks of her quarter deck, with two or three of 
the timbers. We kept along the shore several miles; 
found the travelling very bad. At length we were oblig¬ 
ed to take to the woods again in consequence of the bold¬ 
ness of the shore. 

I have been accustomed to the wilderness in New 
England, New-York, Pennsylvania and Ohio, but have 
never seen any so difficult to get through as that of New¬ 
foundland. Three times a clay Capt. Marsh would set 
down with the bread bag between his legs, and deal out 
to each man a small quantity of bread, and some other 
officer would distribute a small quantity of meat; the 
butter was also divided, which we found on the sea shore. 
I should say that the whole amount of provisions a day, 
to each man, did not exceed eight ounces. I think it 
was on the eighth or ninth day, when we arrived at a 
little port, Point Yar. Some few of our company were 
so exhausted, that they were left by the way, and wheth¬ 
er they were ever relieved, I am unable to say. 

We were driven into store houses, and furnished with 
a kind of tea, which they called Labrador tea; this was 
w r ell sweetened with molasses. This tea with ship bread 
composed our supper, but before the officers with the 
men of the place had got us housed, we had made free 
with some of the fish from the beach; this however was 
taken away as we entered the store house. I had the 
good luck or the presumption to conceal a small one 
under my jacket, and I found that others had done the 
same. I reserved as much for myself as I dared to eat, 
and distributed the remainder to others. They gave us 
a plenty of tea. I took Wilds for my messmate, got un¬ 
der a large bench, and we ate our supper with great cau¬ 
tion and comfort, being very careful to masticate our fish 
thoroughly, and to eat and drink very slowly. We were, 
probably an hour in eating our suppers, and we then had 
a dry floor to repose on, and had a comfortable night’s 
rest. 

The next day we had to walk four or five miles to 
Placentia, and we who were prisoners were deposited 
in our old station, the guard house. A Mr. Sanders, 


70 


MEMOIRS Or 


the principal merchant in Placentia, gave me and others 
some clothes. Gov. Hawkins and lady were very friendly, 
and the soldiers with whom we had contracted a friendly 
acquaintance, congratulated us on our return, after hav¬ 
ing gone through such a scene of suffering in two short 
weeks. We continued here about a month. Mr. Baggs 
got his discharge, and the crew were sent in shallops to 
St. Johns. 

How incomprehensible and astonishing are the ways 
of divine Providence! If Mr. Baggs had not been in 
our company, we should probably most or all of us have 
perished in the wilderness. 

At the expiration of about one month, the Fairy, 
sloop of war, of eighteen guns, came into the-harbor to 
convoy a few merchantmen to St. Johns, which were 
not ready to sail when the Duchess of Cumberland sail¬ 
ed. The merchantmen were bound to Lisbon, and were 
short of hands. Mr. Loyd, Babb, and Annis, were put 
on board them, and promised that they should be report¬ 
ed to the consul, and set at liberty in Lisbon, which was 
a neutral port. Whether they ever found their way to 
their native shores, I cannot say. Wilds and myself 
were destined to serve his Majesty, on board the Fairy, 
sloop of war, commanded by Capt. Yeo, a complete ty¬ 
rant. I began to fear that my fate was sealed to serve 
his Britannic Majesty, on board a man of w ar, all my 
days; a service which Iliad detested from my infancy.— 
Before I was six years old, I had heard my parents 
speak of some of their friends who had been impressed 
on board of men of war. I can perfectly remember 
when Hollon took a chart of our coast and harbors. My 
father at that time lived on Frost’s point, near the mouth 
of Portsmouth harbor, where we could see every vessel 
that went out and in. Our sailors and fishermen used 
to dread the sight of a man of war’s boat, as a flock of 
sheep would dread the appearance of a wolf. I presume 
that Gov. Hawkins was ignorant of Capt. Yeo’s design. 
Hawkins put us on board of the Fairy, to be conveyed 
to St. Johns. Wilds and myself were called upon the 
quarter deck, and after having been asked a few questions 
by Capt. Yeo, he turned to his officers and said, “they are 
a couple of fine lads for his Majesty’s service. Mr. Gray, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


71 


see that they do their duty, one in the foretop and the 
other in the maintop.” Wilds replied that he was afraid 
to go up so high ; that he was subject to fits; he was afraid 
he should fall down and kill himself. I replied, that I 
was a prisoner of war, and that I could not consent to 
serve against my country. With very hard words and 
several threats, we were ordered off the quarter deck, 
and commanded to do our duty in the waist. 

Mr. Gray was the first lieutenant, and the tops were 
much more honorable stations than the waist; but we were 
determined not to serve his Majesty in either station; we 
therefore left the quarter deck in haste, and went imme¬ 
diately into the cahle tier, which is the prisoners’ station: 
but we did not know, as yet, what fellows we had to deal 
with. In a day or two, all hands were called; this is per¬ 
formed with a certain ceremony. The boatswain’s mate - 
stands at the fore hatchway, and with a call, or pipe, blows 
a loud and a long blast, and then halloos out “ all hands, 
ahoy.” He performs the same ceremony at the main 
hatchway, and at the after hatchway. It is only to blow 
his whistle and say “hands ahoy.” For myself, I did not 
see any occasion for all hands being called at that time. 
I have always thought that it was for no other purpose 
than to ferret out these two poor little yankee lads. After 
suitable time is given for the men to get on deck, the boat- 
wain’s mate goes down, and goes fore and aft between! 
decks, to see if there are any skulkers. On this occa¬ 
sion, having performed on deck the proper ceremony, he 
came down below, blustering and swearing, (as is com¬ 
mon on those occasions,) and finding none indifferent to 
the summons, except Wilds and myself, who were snug 
in the cable tier, he began to rave at us like a bedlamite, 
and hastening towards us, commanded /us on deck. We 
informed him that we were prisoners of war; that we were 
American prisoners. “Tell me nothing about prisoners,” 
said he; “upon deck immediately.” We still kept our 
stations, and remonstrated: he uttered a number of most 
horrid imprecations, and at the same time commenced a 
furious attack upon us with his rattan. We for a while 
sternly adhered to our purpose, while he alternately thresh¬ 
ed the one and the other; (we should have resisted, but 
were afraid of the consequences.) He became more and 


72 


MEMOIRS OF 


more enraged, and determined to conquer; and we not 
daring to resist, thought it best to clear out. We mount¬ 
ed the deck, but with no small degree of reluctance, with 
him at our heels repeating his strokes. Having got on 
deck, I saw but very little to do. The carpenter and 
boatswain have each a birth, viz. a kind of small room by 
themselves, forward of the fore hatchway. The carpen¬ 
ter, whose name was Fox, was sitting in his birth and 
looking on while the boatswain’s mate was whipping us. 
The thought of serving his Majesty on board a man of 
war was so painful to my feelings, that I directly left the 
deck and again went below and sat down, and with a very 
heavy heart was reflecting on my forlorn condition. I 
could not endure the thoUgt of being deprived of liberty, 
and spending my days on board an enemy’s ship of war. 
Mr. Fox was still sitting in his cabin, and I believe there 
was no other person below at that time. The carpenter 
called to me, and beckoned to me to come to his birth; 
I went in and he kindly asked me to sit down, which I 
did, and he addressed me as follows: “I see my lad, that 
you are obliged to do duty.” 

Yes, Sir, said I, but very much against my inclination. 

Said he, u it is wrong, but it would not do for me to 
interfere; but I was thinking to do you a favor. His 
Majesty allows me two boys, but I have not any; if you 
will come into my birth and take a little care here, I will 
excuse you from keeping watch and all other duty.” I 
hesitated, fearing to perform any voluntary service, lest 
it should prove unfavorable to me. Mr. Fox noticing 
that I was in suspense about the matter, said £ ‘ you need 
not fear its being unfavorable to you; you will be much 
less exposed if you stay with me, than you will be if you 
have to do your duty before the mast, and it is in vain 
for you to think to escape that, for Capt. Yeo is a very 
arbitrary man; he is not liked by the crew’, and his offi¬ 
cers do not set much by him. I intend to leave the 
ship myself when we get home, but I wish you not to 
mention these things, and you may be assured that I 
will be your friend.” He seemed so affectionate and 
friendly that I put confidence in the man, nor was it 
misplaced; he proved a faithful friend. The boatswain 
and gunner, both messed with Mr. Fox; the boatswain had 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


73 


& boy, whose name was William Ming, and the gunner 
had a boy, whose name was Henry Hack, besides a 
son, seven or eight years old; so that our service was 
very light, for one smart boy would have been amply 
sufficient to have done all the work that there was to do 
in the mess. Within a day or two after this, the ship 
arrived at St. John’s, where I soon ascertained that the 
cartel had sailed several weeks before, and that there 
were no prisoners on board the prison ship. This was ap¬ 
palling to my feelings: although I had little ground to 
expect that the sailing of the cartel would have been de¬ 
layed until that time. We found, therefore, that we 
were destined to see old England, if we should live, and 
the ship should succeed in getting home. While lying 
in St. John’s, we had an opportunity of seeing some 
of Capt. Yeo’s character exhibited. It was contrary to 
orders to bring any spirituous liquors on board; it was 
the usage to hoist in the boat at night, lest any of the 
men should elude the guard, steal the boat and run away. 

One evening as the boat was hoisted in, there was a 
bottle of rum discovered in the boat. JVo one of the 
boat’s crew would own the bottle; and the next morning 
the whole, six in number, were seized up to the gangway, 
with their shirts stripped off, and each received a dozen 
lashes, with a cat-o’-nine-tails, on his naked back.—It 
was very common for this captain to have his men thus 
whipped for very trifling faults, and sometimes, when fault¬ 
less. At a certain time the cook gives out word to the 
men, and officers’ waiters, that they may have hot water 
to wash their dishes, &c. One day a midshipman’s boy 
called on the cook for hot water. The cook had none; 
and reprimanded the lad for not coming in proper season. 
The boy complained to his master; whose rank on board 
is no higher than the cook’s and who was himself but a 
boy: the midshipman came forward and began to repri¬ 
mand the cook; who told him that had the boy come at 
the proper time, he would have had hot water enough; 
but that he should not now furnish him, or any one else. 
This young blood made his complaint to the captain that 
he was insulted by the cook, who was a man in years, 
md who, for this affront, offered to a gentleman’s son, 
7 


74 


MEMOIRS OF 


must be brought to the gangway, and take his dozen. f 
believe that the laws of the navy do not admit of a war¬ 
rant officer’s being punished, without he is first tried and 
condemned by a court martial. I understand that the 
captain had violated the laws of the navy, in a number of 
instances. He had a number of men in irons, on the 
whole passage to England. He had a son who was a 
midshipman on board, and I think it very probable that 
he was the same who commanded on Lake Ontario, in 
the late war with England. We had a short, but rather 
a rough passage to England; and were several times cal¬ 
led to quarters; but it so happened, in kind Providence, 
that neither Wilds or myself were stationed at any quar¬ 
ters. Whether we were overlooked, or whether it was 
design in the officers, I am unable to say; at any rate, 
we thought it a very fortunate circumstance on our part. 
There was no fighting however on the passage. We arriv¬ 
ed at Plymouth, I should say about the last of November, 
1761. It excited some peculiar sensations to lift up my eyes 
and behold the land of my forefathers. I must confess I felt 
a certain kind of reverence and solemnity, that I cannot 
well describe. Yet when reflecting on my situation, and 
bringing into view the haughtiness of her monarch and 
government; their injustice and cruelty to her children; 
I felt an indignant, if not a revengeful spirit towards them. 
Several days passed away, and I saw no prospect of my 
release from the ship. The ship had not been a week 
in port, before there came three fourths as many women, 
as men, on board; and the number every day increasing. 
This was the universal practice with the British navy: 
it was not common for the men to be allowed to go' on 
shore, to stay over night. My worthy master proposed to 
me, that in case I could not get released from the ship, to 
adopt me as his son. He had a wife, I think, in Bristol, 
but had no child: he said he did not intend long to fol¬ 
low the sea; he could, if he pleased, quit the ship and 
work in his Majesty’s yard. I could not but express my 
grateful sense of his kindness; but informed him that it 
was my design to use every endeavor to get to America 
again. He said he did not blame me; and that if he could 
see any opportunity in my favor, he would apprise me of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


75 


it. There was some prospect of Capt. Yeo’s being re¬ 
moved from the command of the ship: she was, however, 
preparing for sea again. The men, and especially the 
officers, lived high while the ship was in port. In our 
iness we had a plenty of fresh beef, mutton, fowls, and 
vegetables; which were very acceptable to me, after hav¬ 
ing been seven or eight months destitute of every kind of 
vegetables and fresh provisions except fish. 

We had been several week« in port; the ship had ta¬ 
ken her beer on board, and was in a manner ready for sea 
again. Capt. Ye.o took his leave of the ship, without any 
ceremony of respect being shown him from the crew. 
Shortly after, the new Captain came on board, and was 
saluted with three cheers from the crew. There was now 
a mere possibility that my friend Wilds and myself, might 
find favor in the sight of our new Captain. (1 very much 
regret that I have forgotten his name.) 

In a day or two after he had come on board, Mr. Fox 
came into his cabin, where I was, and said to me: “Sher¬ 
burne, the Captain is walking alone, on the quarter deck, 
I think it is a good time for you to go and speak to him; 
it may be, that he will consider you as a prisoner of war.” 
I trembled for fear we should be unsuccessful, and this 
was our last chance, and if we should fail in this, our fate 
would be sealed, unless Mr. Fox could get discharged 
from the ship, and take me with him; and even in that 
case, I must be a British subject. This idea was by no 
means grateful to my feelings. There was no time, hoAV- 
ever, to lose, I went and informed Wilds of my plan, and 
requested him to accompany me, he readily consented; 
(we had talked on the subject before;) and we walked aft, 
went up the lee gangway and crossed over to the weath¬ 
er side of the quarter deck, with our hats under our arms, 
and met the Captain as he was walking forward. He 
appeared very willing to give us a hearing. “YY hat is 
your wish, my lads?” said he; I replied, “we are Ameri¬ 
can prisoners, Sir, we were taken on the coast of New¬ 
foundland, and imprisoned all the last summer in Placen¬ 
tia, and in September we were put on board his Majesty’s 
ship, the Duchess of Cumberland, to go to St. John’s, 
expecting to have been sent from thence to Boston, and 


76 


MEMOIRS OF 


have been exchanged; but the Duchess of Cumberland 
was lost on Cape St. Mary’s, soon after she sailed- We 
were taken to Placentia again, and there put on board 
this ship; it is our wish. Sir, to he considered prisoners 
of war, and to go to prison.” Said he, “you may go for¬ 
ward, my lads, and I will inquire into your cause.” We 
bowed and retired. Mr. Fox anxiously waited our return. 

In about half an hour, word was given out from the 
Captain, for Sherburne and Wilds to get ready to go into 
the boat; and at the same time, the jolly boat boys were 
called to man the boat. We felt almost ready to leap 
for joy, that we were likely to have the honor and privi¬ 
lege of going to prison. I saw the tears stand in Mr. 
Fox’s eye, and I am certain that they ran down my 
cheeks freely; he gave me some shirts and stockings, and 
his best wishes. So we parted. 

Wilds and Sherburne were ordered to goon board the 
boat; in this business there must be a little ceremony. 
A midshipman must accompany us, sword in hand, also 
a sergeant, and several marines with fixed bayonets; thus 
prepared, we left the Fairy in Plymouth sound, and 
shaped our course for Hamoaze, near Plymouth dock, 
where lay the Dunkirk seventy-four, the harbor Admi¬ 
ral’s ship. All the prisoners who were brought into 
port, are put on board this ship, which is properly a guard 
ship. All the men who are impressed in and about this 
port, are also put on board this ship. All his Majesty’s 
ships when they come into port, report to the Admiral, 
and he reports to the board of admiralty; he also re¬ 
ceives and gives all orders to his Majesty’s ships. 

When a crew of prisoners is brought on board this ship, 
a list of their names is deposited in the Admiral’s clerk’s 
office, which is kept under the poop, on the quarter deck. 

I cannot now say with whom the phrase originated, 
which denominated a British man of war, “ a floating 
hell.” If such a name is applicable to the ships of the 
British navy generally, I think it was as applicable to 
the Dunkirk, as to any other. 

I had been on board but a few minutes, before I fell 
in with an old ship-mate; he was an English lad, a little 
older than myself. His name was William Lamb. He 


ANDREW SHERBURNE 


77 


was captured by the Ranger, on the first cruise I sailed 
in her. William Lamb put himself an apprentice to 
Elijah Hall, Esq. who was first Lieut, of the Ranger. 
This gentleman had one or two other apprentices on 
board that ship; he was as universally beloved and re¬ 
spected by the crew, as any officer with whom I was ever 
acquainted. William fell into the hands of the British 
again, was recognized as a British subject, and put on 
board a man of war; he abhorred the service and desert¬ 
ed; he was impressed, and put on board another; de¬ 
serted from her also, and was now impressed again. 
This information he gave me in a whisper, requesting 
me, for God’s sake, not to call him by name, he having 
assumed one. 

I was grieved for the poor young man, he was very 
agreeable and much respected. I knew, that if he 
should be detected in all this, he would in all probability 
be hung at the yard arm. 

There were no American prisoners on board the 
Dunkirk, when we went on board, but in a few days a 
dozen or fifteen were brought on board, and shortly af¬ 
ter, a few more; and there would scarcely a night pass, 
in which there were not more or less brought on 
board by the press gangs, as they are called. This ship 
would sometimes have out five or six gangs at the same 
time. These gangs consisted generally of a petty offi¬ 
cer, and six, eight, or ten, unprincipled sturdy fellows ; 
they generally have the greatest success at the houses 
of ill fame, where most of the sailors resort, when on 
shore. They sometimes, however,! have a hard time, 
and are overpowered, and get a severe drubbing, nor is 
it uncommon for those who are impressed, to be brought 
on board shockingly bruised and mangled. 

When a ship comes into port, and is in want of hands, 
she gets a supply from the Admiral’s ship.. The prison¬ 
ers who were first brought on board, were in a day or 
two, called for and sent ashore, to pass an examination 
before the Judges of the Admiralty, and be committed 
to Old Mill prison. I felt surprised that those prisoners 
who came on board subsequent to us, should precede us 
in going to prison. The day after, another company 


78 


MEMOIRS OF 


were called and sent ashore. We began to feel alarmed, 
for we had understood that prisoners were sent ashore in 
rotation, as they came on board. We began seriously 
to fear that there was some evil design against us. At 
length we put on fortitude sufficient to go to the office 
and inquire why we were not sent ashore in our turn. 
The clerk inquired what vessel’s crew we were of, and 
what our names were; we informed him, but he knew 
nothing about us. Our very souls began to sink; we 
had seen enough of a British man of war to satisfy us, 
that it would be worse than useless for us, in our situa¬ 
tion to talk about “ sailors 5 rights.” 

We began to fear that we should be turned off to the 
first of his Majesty’s ships which might want hands, 
for there was no distinction there between im¬ 
pressed men, and prisoners. It was only a tem¬ 
porary station for either. We made bold to go to the 
office again, and oh ! how appalling to find that we were 
not known as prisoners. One circumstance, however, 
seemed to inspire us with a faint hope. The clerk was 
a man, yes, he was a gentleman; he patiently heard all 
we had to say, and promised to make diligent seach for 
our names. 

By this time, we had lost every article of clothing, ex¬ 
cept what we had upon our backs; every thing else had 
been stolen. I suppose that it might with as much pro¬ 
priety be said of our ship’s company, that we were the 
offscouring of the earth, as of almost any other company 
in existence. The ship being near the shore, and there 
being so much passing and repassing from the ship tothe 
shore, it was almost impossible to prevent their having 
spirits on board. There was, therefore, drinking, gam¬ 
ing, swearing, fighting, stealing, scolding, brawling, &c. 
See. going on almost continually, and especially in the 
night. But I will desist from any further description of 
this degraded and wretched company. 

Wilds and myself were now the only prisoners on 
board, and we made application the third time to the 
clerk, who appeared to sympathize with us; he presum¬ 
ed that as there were but two of us, that the paper on 
which our names were, was so small that it must have 


1 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 79 

been lost. There were eleven more prisoners brought 
on board, and when the time came to send the prison¬ 
ers ashore, we were greatly rejoiced to hear our names 
first called. 

Whether our list had been mislaid and had now come 
to light, or whether the clerk sent onboard the Fairy for 
a new one, or whether he made us out a new one, I nev¬ 
er inquired. 

There were thirteen prisoners ordered on board the 
boat and were landed at what is called Plymouth Dock, 
said to be the best dock in England. I had the oppor¬ 
tunity of seeing the Royal George laying in dock, at 
that time the largest ship in the British navy. We were 
escorted from the wharf to the court of Admiralty, by a 
guard of soldiers, and conducted into a room by our¬ 
selves. And here we waited some time in awful suspense; 
we had one more trying scene to endure. The judges 
in their examinations were careful to select all English¬ 
men and Irishmen for his Majesty’s service; and it was 
sometimes the case then, as well as in after times, to 
challenge Americans, and to insist that they were Brit¬ 
ish subjects, and send them on board one of his Majes- 
' ty’s ships of war. 

We had now to pass an examination individually and 
separately. 

I being the first on the list, was first called in be¬ 
fore the judges. They were elderly gentlemen, and all 
wore large white wigs; there were several other persons 
present. My examination follows as nearly as I can 
recollect. 

“ Is your name Andrew Sherburne ?” 

“ It is, Sir.” 

“ Where were you born?” 

“In Portsmouth, in the state of New-Hampshire, in 
North America.” 

“ What is your age ?” 

“ I was sixteen on the last day of September, Sir.” 

“ What is your father’s name?” 

“ He is dead, his name was Andrew Sherburne.” 

“ What was his occupation?” 

“ A'carpenter.” 


80 


MEMOIRS OF 


“ What vessel did you sail in?’’ 

“The privateer schooner Greyhound.” 

“ How many guns did she mount?” 

“ Eight four pounders.” 

“ Who commanded her?” 

“Capt. Jacob Wilds.” 

“Where did she belong?” 

“ To Salem, in Massachusetts.” 

“When did she leave Salem?” 

“Some time in the month of April last.” 

“What were you taken in?” 

“I was taken in a Newfoundland shallop, a prize to 
the Greyhound.” 

“By what were you taken ?” 

“A small armed schooner from Fortune bay, in New¬ 
foundland.” 

“Where were you taken to?” 

“We were first taken to a place called Grandbank, in 
Fortune bay, and from there we were sent to Placentia, 
and imprisoned in the garrison until September. I was 
then put on board his Majesty’s ship, the Duchess of 
Cumberland, bound to St. John’s, and she having been 
lost on Cape St. Mary’s, I returned with part of the crew 
to Placentia, where I was put on board his Majesty’s ship 
the Fairy, and brought to this port.” 

“How many are there of you?” 

“Only two, Sir; there were three men of our erew put 
on board of merchantmen, at Placentia.” 

I was then conducted back again to the rest of my 
shipmates, and Wilds called in, and had nearly the same 
questions asked him. I do not now recollect whether 
the remaining eleven all belonged to one crew or not; 
they were however examined separately, if my memory 
serves me. 

After all had been examined, I was called in before 
the judges a second time, and most of the questions were 
asked me again. 

This circumstance very much alarmed me: one of the 
judges asked a gentleman who was sitting in another part 
of the room, whether my statements agreed with what I 
had before said; who answered in the affirmative. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


31 


I recollected to have heard a pen going while I was 
answering their questions, but little thought at that time 
that they were writing down my answers. I felt fearful 
that they were laying a snare for me. However, it proved 
more favorable than I expected. The other twelve were 
then called in and their honors were prepared to pro¬ 
nounce an awful sentence. 

We were severally and individually committed to Old 
Mill prison, for rebellion, piracy , and high treason on his 
Britannic Majesty's high seas f there to lay during his 
Majesty's pleasure , until he saw fit to pardon or other¬ 
wise dispose of us. 

This I believe is about the substance of their honors’ 
address to us, as near as I could recollect. We were 
then conducted to the door, that opened into the street, 
and found a guard of soldiers waiting to receive us and 
conduct us to the prison. I was then pressing the soil 
of Old England, in a walk of about a mile and a half.— 
1 had not walked so much on the land before since my 
tedious march through the dreary wilderness of New¬ 
foundland. I felt a high degree of animation that my 
prospects were so flattering. It was indeed a peculiar 
gratification to think of entering Old Mill prison. At 
length we came to the outer gate, which groaning on its 
hinges, opened to receive us into the outer yard. 

The commissary’s office and the cook room made two 
sides of this yard, and it was separated from the large 
prison yard, by a strong wooden grate. In this yard a 
sentinel stood continually ; and “ old Aunt Anna” was 
here constantly, with her hand cart, (drawn by a boy,) 
to supply the prisoners with bread, butter, tobacco, 
needles, thread and every other article for which they 
might call. Several milk men had their station here oc¬ 
casionally. before the inner gate was opened, we heard 
the outcry from within, “more prisoners! more prisoners!” 
The inner gate was opened, being well guarded with sol¬ 
diers with fixed bayonets. Without further ceremony 
we were urged forward into the great yard, and saw 
the prisoners rushing towards the gate from all direc¬ 
tions, to see if any of their acquaintance were to be 
found amongst the new comers. 


MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER, IV. 

% 

Enter Mill Prison—Friendship of townsmen—Goes to 
School in Prison—Manners and Customs—Prisoners 
escape—The Guards deceived—Sent to the Hospital — 
Ben Hunt — Mr. Lawrence—Discharged from Hos¬ 
pital—Returns to Prison—Jack Briard—Sent on 
board Cartel—Long passage—Arrives at Marblehead 
— Travels home a beggar . 

I had not time to look about myself in my new, and so 
much desired quarters, before I was accosted by one and 
another, (seizing me by the hand,) “ how fare ye ship¬ 
mates, where are you from?” I hailed, from Piscataqua; 
(that is the name of the river dividing Maine from New 
Hampshire; Portsmouth laying on the west, and Kittery 
on the east side. The Piscataqua men were ealled and 
drew off towards the centre of the yard, and formed a 
circle round me; I being the only one who came from 
that river. JVo one who was not from that river presum¬ 
ed to intrude. I very soon ascertained that a number of 
my townsmen had left Portsmouth several months sub¬ 
sequent to my leaving it; consequently I had nothing to 
teli them from home. 

From Portsmouth I found Capt. John Seward, An¬ 
drew Tombs, Daniel Huntress, Badger, Michael Hook¬ 
er, R. S. Tibbits and Nathaniel Kennerd. 

From Kittery, Capt. Mark Firnald, Capt. James 
Brown, Thomas Brown, B. Dum, Aaron Goodwin,Enoch 
Clerk, Edmund Fornald, Benjamin Moore. James Hoo¬ 
per and Richard Perry, and probably some others whose 
names I have forgotten. Most of those persons were 
afterwards masters of vessels. Mr. Tibbits, of whom I 
shall have occasion to speak hereafter, was the only 
person amongst them with whom I had had any ac¬ 
quaintance, though the most of the Portsmouth people 
had known my father. It was now near night; 1 had 
eaten nothing since the morning, and had now got to a 
hungry place. Daniel, who was afterw ards Capt. Ilun- 



ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


83 


tress, brought me a penny roll and a half penny worth of 
butter, which was very acceptable. 

It was now January, and I had not a single article of 
clothing except what I had upon my back. I had a suf¬ 
ficient number of contemptible animals about me, which 
I had unavoidably brought from the Dunkirk. If I do 
not mistake, his Majesty provided hammocks and a blan¬ 
ket or two for the prisoners. The next day my towns¬ 
men gave me some old shirts and stockings, and advised 
me to dislodge my domestic enemies if possible. There 
was a pump in the yard, and a trough to wash our clothes 
in; nor was there much danger of their being stolen 
while drying; for the prisoners, notwithstanding they 
were located within the absolute dominions of his Brit¬ 
annic Majesty, adventured to form themselves into a re¬ 
public, framed a constitution and enacted wholesome 
laws, with suitable penalties. My friends held a consul¬ 
tation amongst themselves respecting me. Some one 
spoke after this manner: “ It will be a pity if this young 
countryman of ours should spend his time while here 
as many of the boys do, at gaming; he is fatherless, and 
has no education; perhaps he might be prevailed with, 
to go to school.” u If he will,” said one, “ I will give 
him some paper;” said another, “ I will give him some 
quills and ink.” Said R. S. Tibbits, who was after¬ 
wards Capt. Tibbits, “ I will undertake to instruct him/ 
They appointed a committee to confer with me upon the 
subject; this committee communicated to me the sub¬ 
stance of their consultation, and advised me to comply 
with their wishes. I could not but feel a grateful sense 
of their benevolence, and although I was fond of cards, 
See. I promised to deny myself, altogether, and adhere 
to their advice. 

I had never had six months’ schooling in my life, nor 
had even one month’s schooling after I was seven years 
old. I could, however, make out to read a chapter tol¬ 
erably well in the New-Testament. Roderick Random, 
and several other novels had fallen into my hands; I was 
pleased with their contents, and they improved my read¬ 
ing considerably. But I could not write my name. I 
do not know that I had ever written a line in my life, 


84 


MEMOIRS OF 


nor could I enumerate three figures. I commenced 
writing with Mr. Tibbits, and made rapid progress; my 
mind was entirely taken up with the business, and my 
friends were much gratified with my improvement, and 
even if their encomiums excited my vanity, they also 
prompted to unwearied application, and persevering im¬ 
provement. I very soon became entirely indifferent to 
all kinds of gaming, and found sufficient amusement with 
my pen and pencil; and even when nature required 
some relaxation from my studies, it w 7 as more agreeable 
to me to walk alone in the yard, than to join in any kind 
of play. Although more than forty-eight years have 
gone by since my confinement commenced in that prison, 
I shall here, so far as my memory shall aid me, give a 
description of the place, together with some of the max¬ 
ims, customs, and employments, &c. of the prisoners. 

This prison was situated on a promontory, projecting 
into the sound, between Plymouth and Plymouth Dock, 
two considerable towns; it lies on the right hand, as 
you go from Dock to Plymouth, and about an equal dis¬ 
tance from either. Formerly there stood wind mills on 
this eminence, w'hich circumstance gave it the name of 
“ Mill Hill;” hence the prison was called “ Mill Prison.” 
There were three buildings, one of which had been built 
in queen Ann’s time, as tradition informs us. The lar¬ 
gest building was a hundred feet long and about twenty 
feet wide; situated at the north end of the yard. It was 
two stories high, built with stone and lime, having no 
windows on the north front. There was a space of about 
twenty feet between this building and the commissary’s 
office, which stood to the west, but had no windows in 
the east end. A wall on the north as high as the eaves 
of the prison, extended from the prison to the office; a 
similar wall on the south, joined the two buildings. In 
this wall was a gate leading into the main yard. 

It will hereafter appear why I am so particular in de¬ 
scribing this little yard. I have already spoken of a 
small necessary yard in front of the commissary’s office; 
south of this yard was the cook room on the ground floor. 
In the north end of one of the other buildings, which 
stood in a line, making the west side of the yard. A 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


85 


space between the prisons answered as a yard for both. 
On the south of our common yard was a stonewall, four¬ 
teen feet high, with broken glass bottles set in lime mor¬ 
tar on the top, to prevent climbing over. There was 
a similar wall on the east; altogether enclosing something 
like half an acre. In this yard was set a lamp post, and 
near the cook room was a pump of good water. 

By day I think there were but one or two sentinels in 
the yard, but by night 1 believe there were at least four, 
and as large a number without the walls; together with 
four in the long prison, two above and two below, with 
a proportionable number in the other prisons. I think 
the whole number of American prisoners was between 
eight and ten hundred. Our south wall divided between 
us and the French prison yard. The hospital, consisting 
of thirteen wards, as I understood, and the guard house, 
were situated south-west of our yard, at a convenient 
distance. There was no way of communication between 
them except by the great gate. 

There had been no release, or exchange of prisoners 
from this place for many months. At different times, 
numbers had deserted and some had shipped on board 
his Majesty’s ships, and thereby were absolved from the 
heinous crime of 1 rebellion, piracy,’ &c. 

At an early period it was found necessary to have 
some mode of government among the prisoners. I be¬ 
lieve I have heard their articles read; but I do not now 
recollect the particulars. However, if any person was 
found guilty of any transgression, he had a legal trial 
and was punished according to the crime. There had 
been one or more instances of tying up to the lamp post, 
and putting a dozen lashes on the bare back. 

The provision while I was there, was in general, pret¬ 
ty good, but we had not half enough of it. I think we 
were allowed twelve ounces of bread, and twelve ounces 
of beef, per day. We were divided into messes, four in 
a mess. At eleven o’clock, we drew a three pound 
loaf to each mess. The bread was very dark colored, 
and was supposed to have been composed of rye, oats, 
barley, and peas; the members of each mess would gen¬ 
erally convene when the bread was served out. One 
8 


86 


MEMOIRS OF 


person would divide the loaf into quarters, as exactly as 
he could; then one of the mess would turn his back, 
and another, in the presence of the rest, touch a piece 
of the bread, saying to him who had turned his back, 
who shall have that? ‘ John,’ who shall have that? ‘ my¬ 
self,’ and who shall have that? ‘you shall have it;’ of 
course, the fourth quarter must fall to the one not named. 

There had in time past, been some serious difficulties 
about the division of the beef. The beef is weighed out 
to the cook in the gross, and an allowance made for the 
turn of the scale to each mess; it is, therefore, divided 
into as many lots as there are messes; as equally as pos¬ 
sible. The messes in rotation, send one of their num¬ 
ber into the cook room every day. The mess which 
sends the man, is called the blind mess. This man su¬ 
perintends the division of the beef, which is stuck on the 
long iron skewers while raw. This blind mess has its 
part by weight, without bone, and a sufficient quantity of 
fat out of the common stock to fry it in. The blind mess 
generally calculated to have a feast on this day, some¬ 
thing like a yankee thanksgiving. There is no door 
from the yard into the cook’s room, but there is a small 
window, through which the bowls of soup are passed. 
The beef is brought round through the commissary's 
yard and set under a shed by the cook’s room window. 
While the man of the blind mess, who superintended 
the cookery is cooking his portion for himself and mess¬ 
mates, another man of the same mess is blindfolded, 
and kneels down over the tub of meat, and one of the 
cooks; who is not a prisoner, begins to call the numbers 
of the messes in order. These numbers aie one day 
called forwards, and the next day backwards. When 
the cook calls a mess by their number, the blind man, 
with his fore finger, touches a lot of the meat, and, not¬ 
withstanding all their punctiliousness, some lots will be 
worth as much again as others. Those who get a very 
door lot, generally stand by until all the messes are 
called, and if any small pieces are left in the tub, it is ju¬ 
diciously divided amongst those whose lots were defic¬ 
ient. While they are serving the meat, another of the 
cooks is passing out the bowls of broth; the bowls are 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 37 

all numbered on the rim. In each bowl is about two 
quarts of broth. 

One of each mess attends to get the meat, and another 
to get the soup. They form two ranks from the cook’s 
room window, and pass the bowls along from one to 
another, and when a man sees his own, he takes it, steps 
backward and carries it to the mess station where the 
meat is also brought and divided. 

Some of the people would eat all their allowance as 
fast as it came to hand, others made two parts of it, and 
some would divide it into three parts. 

The bread was universally called Broim George. 
This was a compliment paid to his Majesty. I used 
generally to eat a small quantity of bread with my soup, 
and divide my meat and the remainder of my bread in 
two equal parts, lor my supper and breakfast; this was 
scanty living; when in health our appetites were pretty 
keen. 

Mr. John Wentworth, the last Governor of New- Hamp¬ 
shire under his Majesty, was at that time in England, 
end some of the Portsmontii people borrowed small 
suras of money of him and were to refund the money to 
the Governor’s mother who lived in Portsmouth. 

Some of the Kittery people had sailed in privateers 
from France, and had some money with them when they 
were taken. There were individuals who would furnish 
themselves with a kettle, a few pounds of coffee, and a 
small quantity of fuel, (bones were carefully collected 
for fuel,) and make coffee and sell for half a penny a pint, 
aud if they could realize the gain of three or four pence, 
or even but one penny a day, it was an inducement to 
continue the business. 

Mr. Bodge, of Portsmouth, was an artist in making 
punch ladies, of appletree wood. I believe he made some 
which were sold for nearly a half a guinea; wooden 
spoons, busks, and knitting sheaths, were very curious¬ 
ly wrought. Capt. James Brown, of Kittery, taught 
navigation, and employed his leisure hours in manufac¬ 
turing nets for drying glue. 

Ship budding was the most extensive business which 
was carried on. I have no doubt there are ships now in 
England, which were built in Mill Prison. An old Mr. 


88 


MEMOIRS OF 


Hudson was indefatigable in building sloops and schoon¬ 
ers; and would generally have some on hand; he gen¬ 
erally supplied the boys, whose curiosity led them to 
take a peep at the yankees. The old gentleman would 
sell them from a penny to two or three shillings. There 
were sloops of war, frigates, two deckers, and even three 
deckers built or manufactured there. A Mr. John 
Deadmanof Salem, a brother of William, (whom I before 
mentioned) exceeded all others in this business; he built 
one which was not more than a foot in length, which 1 
think he sold for four guineas; he built a three decker 
and rigged her completely, which, (if I do not mistake,) 
he sold for twenty guineas. She was between three 
and four feet in length; she showed three tier of guns, 
had her anchors on her bows, and her cable bent; bv 
pulling gently on one cable, the parts on one deck would 
all fly open, by pulling on another, the guns would all 
runout of the ports: the same process would have the 
same effect on the other decks. My impression is, that 
he was twenty two months in building her. There was 
nothing left undone, to obtain a little money, order F* 
augment our small stock of provisions. 

Dr. Franklin was at that time our minister at the 
court of France: he took a deep interest in the concerns 
of the prisoners in England: previously to my going into 
that prison, he furnished each prisoner with a shilling 
sterling a week. It was so very difficult for the Doctor 
to obtain funds, that this donation would discontinue for 
weeks and sometimes for months. After I had been 
there a month or two, this donation was received, and I 
found that one shilling per week added much to our com¬ 
fort; it served to supply us with a tolerable comfortable 
meal each day. 

Various arts were employed to obtain the news. A 
newspaper would sometimes be obtained in a loaf of 
bread; I believe that news of the capture of Cornwallis 
was obtained in this way, not long before I entered the 
prison. The prisoners were not a little animated on this 
occasion. I was informed that a considerable number 
furnished themselves with the American ensign, painted 
on half a sheet of paper, having the English ensign also 
painted below the Union, and sticking this half sheet in- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


89 


to their hat bands, paraded the yard, huzzaing in such 
a manner as to alarm the commissary; his name was 
Cowdray. He was a petulant old fellow, and the pris¬ 
oners, and especially the Marblehead men, took pleasure 
in affronting him. On this occasion the whole guard 
came into the yard, and some of the prisoners had the 
hardihood to insult the guard, and dare them to fire upon 
them; but, by the interposition of some of the American 
officers, the tumult subsided without any mischief. 

Every evening before the sun went down, the officers 
who were on guard, came into the yard with a number 
of soldiers, and gave orders for every man to go into the 
prison. An officer stands at each door, and counts the 
men as they walk leisurely into the prison, the doors are 
then locked. In the morning they are counted out 
again. One evening while I was there, a prisoner in 
the upper story had been picking a bone, and threw it out 
of the window through the grates; it fell on the sentinel’s 
head. He immediately walked up to the lower window, 
directly under that from which the bone fell, clapped his 
gun into the window and fired up through the floor; the 
ball went through a hammock in which a man was lying, 
but no one was injured. The report of the musket imme¬ 
diately alarmed the guerd, who came mustering into the 
yard; the prisoners were much enraged, and swore they 
would kill that soldier if he was ever placed as sentinel 
in the yard again. There was one regiment occasion¬ 
ally on guard, against which the prisoners were very 
much prejudiced. 1 do not now recollect the number 
of the regiment. 

There were about a dozen prisoners made their escape 
one night while I was there. 

They effected it in the following manner. They by 
some means, got one of the grates out of the chamber 
window which was directly over the west end door of the 
long prison; they took a loose beam and ran it out of the 
window in an oblique direction, so as just to make it reach 
over the north wail of the necessary yard; they lashed 
hammocks together, suspended them from the end of the 
beam, and lowered themselves down; and I believe they 
all made their escape. I do not recollect that any of 
8 * 


90 


MEMOIRS OF 


them were brought back again as was frequently the 
case. When deserters were detected and brought back, 
they were doomed to suffer a certain number of days in 
the dark hole, so called; they were liable also to be im¬ 
pressed and put on board a man of war. The beam was 
taken and carefully replaced, and the grate was also re¬ 
placed in the window. In this window the grates ran 
up and down, there were no cross grates to it. 

It was an object with the prisoners, when any mischief 
had taken place, to conceal it until the before mentioned 
regiment mounted guard. They must, therefore, have 
recourse to the stratagem which they had before invent¬ 
ed, and practised on such occasions. 

It will be recollected, that I have before mentioned 
a gate which opened out of the necessary yard into the 
main yard. In this gate there was a hole about four feet 
from the ground; (I have understood that this hole was 
designed to pass cans of water through;) it was not suffi¬ 
ciently large, however, for a man to get through, unless 
he was very small. When the morning came, it whs 
necessary that the officers should number as many per¬ 
sons out, as they had numbered in the evening before; 
there must, therefore, be some management on the part 
of the prisoners to conceal the fraud. There were a 
number of boys in this prison, as well as in the other pris¬ 
ons, and dependance must be placed on those lads to 
make up the number; they must, therefore, be got out 
as soon as practicable. A group of the prisoners who 
are first out, station themselves about this gate; they take 
up a lad and crowd him through the hole in the gate; there 
are suitable persons within to receive him, he goes in at the 
end door, and presents himself to the officer at the fore 
door, and is numbered a second time. Shortly after, 
a second lad is crowded through the hole, and sometimes 
the same lad has to pass through the hole the second and 
third time, for want of a sufficient number who are suit¬ 
ably small: in this case he will probably wear a cap, in¬ 
stead of his hat, or he may go out the first time bare¬ 
headed. They may sometimes borrow a boy or two, 
who, by another officer has been numbered out of some 
other prison. Sometimes the poor fellows have a hard 


ANDREW SHERBURNE 


9i 


time in getting through the hole, and will squall a little; 
hut the shouting and laughter of the prisoners in every 
direction, in the prison and out, prevent the boys’ being 
heard by the officer. 

This trick, (and I presume it might pass for a “Yankee 
trick,”) must be played over and over again, until our 
friends shall have had opportunity to escape or conceal 
themselves, and the hated regiment should come on guard. 
It was to me a matter of surprise how’ those men should 
get away and I have no knowledge of it, though I lay at 
the time within ten yards of the window. It was yet 
more astonishing that they should elude the notice of the 
sentinel. 

At length the regiment before mentioned came on 
guard, (I do not suppose that the whole regiment moun¬ 
ted guard at once,) and there was no more squeezing 
the boys through the hole in the gate. There being 
twelve or thirteen missing, the prisoners must all be 
numbered again and again, and when it was fully ascer¬ 
tained that there were so many missing, “There was no 
small stir among the soldiers.” 

Colonel Laurens, of Charleston, S. C. had been ap¬ 
pointed by Congress our minister to Holland; but on his 
way, was captured by the British, and as a rebel, impris¬ 
oned in the Tower at London. After his Majesty had 
received the news of the surrender of Lord Cornwallis, 
the Colonel was released from the Tower upon a parole 
of honor, and visited Mill Prison. The prisoners consid¬ 
ered this visit as a high compliment, and treated him with 
every mark of respect; indeed, the gravity and dignity 
of his appearance commanded respect. 

I diligently pursued my studies of arithmetic and ge¬ 
ometry, with a design to enter upon navigation; but when 
the spring came on, it was very sickly among us; sever¬ 
al of my townsmen were quite unwell, and needed my 
assistance. They had been so very kind to me, that I 
cheerfully devoted myself to their service. 

From this circumstance, I suspended my studies, ex¬ 
pecting to commence them in a few days; but it proved 
far otherwise. A material change was taking place 
amongst the prisoners; many were drooping here and 


92 


MEMOIRS OF 


there, and numbers were daily sent off to the hospital. 
My little services were daily more and more needed. 
At length I became quite indisposed myself, but did not 
complain: the next day I was more unwell yet, but con¬ 
tinued to attend on my messmates. On the third morn¬ 
ing I rose up in my hammock, feeling very unwell, but 
determined not to be confined; my head ached violently, 
I thought I would lie down a few minutes, and then get 
up and attend on my sick friends. I rose up again, but 
my sight left me; I was soon surronded by my neighbors, 
and 1 now recollect having heard some of them say, 
“Sherburne is out of his head.” I attempted to get out 
of my hammock, but was prevented by my friends, James 
Hooper, and Benjamin Moor. I. bled at the nose, and 
my mind was unsettled. The physicians, at this time, 
visited the prison every day, (though at other times, 
they did not visit the prison once in several weeks,) one 
of them called to look at me, and ordered me immediate¬ 
ly to the hospital. I recollect that I was led to the hos¬ 
pital by two men, that I was extremely distressed while 
vomiting, and while I was undressed. From that time, 
I was almost entirely deranged for several weeks. I do 
not recollect, that I was ever informed what my disease 
was denominated by the physicians ; at any rate, they, 
for a while, despaired of my recovery. 

In the course of my confinement, I had short lucid in¬ 
tervals: and realized extreme depression, both of body 
and of mind. I was fearful I should not recover, and 
was filled with horror. I had a deep sense of my respon¬ 
sibility to my Creator. I brought to view my previous 
sickness, dangers, deliverances, and my solemn promi¬ 
ses to God, that I would reform. My own conscience 
weighed me in the ballance, and I was “ found want¬ 
ing .” I endeavored to send up my cry to God for mercy, 
but O! wretched, wretched was my state; I feared an 
awful hell! After a few minutes pensive reflection, my 
mind would relapse again, and I would find myself all 
in darkness and confusion. On the return of my rea¬ 
son again I had some recollection of the whimsical no¬ 
tions that were upon my mind while I was deranged.— 
I lay in the sick ward, in which there were, perhaps, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


93 


twelve or fifteen others, who were very sick, but none 
of them deranged, to my knowledge. 

Our beds were about three or four feet apart, in two 
tiers, their heads to the wall on each side, and a space 
of six or eight feet, between their feet. The floor was 
a brick pavement. One night in my phrenzy, I imagined 
I was shipwrecked on Cape Ann, and exerting all my 
strength to get on shore, and frequently succeeded so far 
as to get my body half on shore, but the strength of the 
waves while receding, would drag me off again, and af¬ 
ter very hard struggling with the waves, I would regain 
the shore again, and would so far succeed as to inspire a 
confidence that I should escape: but alas! I wa3 drawn 
ofTagain and again. 

Without doubt 1 was as much distressed in mind, as 
though it had all been real; I was at length delivered by 
an unseen hand. Some time after this, (probably the 
next day,) I had my reason for a while, and perceived 
that the inside of my hands was exceeding black; I was 
surprised. At first, I had the weakness to suppose that 
the skin on the inside of my hands had died, and was 
pealing off*. But on closer inspection I perceived it to 
be dirt, and spoke to some of my room-mates on the cir¬ 
cumstance, v/ho informed me that I had wallowed on the 
floor; and I found my knees were in a similar condi¬ 
tion with my hands. Whether I got off of my bed de¬ 
signedly or accidentally, I cannot say; but finding my¬ 
self off, I endeavored to get on again, and would get up¬ 
on my knees and lay my breast upon my bed, then raise 
up one knee upon the edge of the bed, and as soon as I 
lifted the other knee from the floor, I would fall back on 
the floor again. How long I was in this situation or by 
what means l was relieved, I cannot say; thus my ship¬ 
wreck and deliverance is interpreted. 

This circumstance occasioned watchers to he sent 
into this ward. My bed was moved from the corner of 
the room to the centre, and two young men from the 
prison volunteered to watch me. I presume I was quite 
troublesome. 1 have at this time a perfect recollection 
of some of the occurrences which took place at the time. 
I supposed myself to have been placed on a bed on the 


94 


MEMOIRS OF 


broad stair of the long prison; the two young men seem¬ 
ed to have been bed-fellows with me; and we seemed 
all to have got into a mutual humorous scuffle. But I 
thought I discovered partiality in them, and was soon 
convinced that they were both against me, and they ar¬ 
bitrarily insisted on my continuing there, while they 
(after they had worried me out) would seat themselves 
at a little distance and laugh at me. This treatment I 
very much resented, and as soon as I had recovered 
breath, would make another attempt to leave the bed. 
They would immediately rise and prevent, and even 
hold me down. This they did several times. 

At length, one time while they were adjusting the bed 
clothes, 1 cautiously and suddenly drew up my knees 
over my breast, and clapped my feet against the breast 
of one of those young men, and directly laid him sprawl¬ 
ing on the floor; the other young man was so engaged 
in laughter, that, he could pay but little or no attention 
to me. I was directly on end in the bed, determined to 
quit this unpleasant confinement, and vainly imagining 
that I had more than half gained the victory; but tha 
young man very soon rose from the floor, met me, 
caught me by the shoulders, and gave me a pretty se¬ 
vere shake, and laid me down again. This brought me 
to myself; I perfectly understood the whole business, 
and for the then present time gave them no further 
trouble. I felt extremely weak, and was glad to lay still. 
Said Dick to Jim, “ I think he sheeted you home nicely.” 
<£ Yes,” said Jim, with a very hard word, “ who would 
have thought he had been so strong.” 

This humorous circumstance excited no levity in me 
at that time: I was so exceedingly exhausted, that it 
seemed as if soul and body must very shortly part. The 
doctor had ordered a blister on my neck and shoulders, 
six or seven inches square. When Ben Hunt, my nurse, 
put the blister on, I was tolerably rational, and said to 
him, u Ben, how long before you will dress my blister?” 
“ In twenty-four hours,” said Ben. I was very careful 
to notice where the sun shone in on the wall at that 
time, so as to know whether I should be neglected. I 
soon got into a drowse, but in less than an hour I arous- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


95 


cd up again and my first business was to ascertain wheth¬ 
er the twenty-four hours had elapsed, for I thought 
my blister demanded attention. I carefully noticed the 
shining of the sun on the wall, and so far as it had gone 
from the mark, so long in my imagination I had been 
neglected; and therelore thought it necessary to remind 
Ben of his duty, and began to call out for Ben Hunt, 
and in order to be in readiness for him, I got up in my 
bed, and continued my vociferations for Ben Hunt. 

I was preparing to get off my shirt, some of my room¬ 
mates interfered by remonstrating against my proceed¬ 
ings; (for they were unable otherwise to interfere) I gave 
them what at that time I supposed to be a suitable rep¬ 
rimand, and continued to prepare for Ben. I unbutton¬ 
ed my sleeves and collar, took off my shirt, carefully roll¬ 
ed it up, lifted up the mattrass, and laid it upon the sack¬ 
ing bottom; I also took off my blister plaster and laid it 
away with my shirt, still singing out for Ben Hunt. I 
cannot say how my room-mates were entertained with my 
management. They however assisted me in rallying Ben, 
At length Ben came staving into the ward with his eyes 
wide open, and his yellow hair waving on his shoulders, 
not a little alarmed at hearing so many calling out to him 
at the same time. His attention was directed and im¬ 
mediately turned to Sherburne. He came at me in haste 
and in a great rage. He had no sooner opened the door, 
however, than I assailed him with a severe reprimand 
for neglecting a fellow at this rate. He caught me by 
the shoulders and gave me a shake, nor was his address 
to me more delicate than mine had been to him. He 
had no sooner shaken me than my senses returned, and 
I immediately sunk into his hands. lie inquired for the 
plaster and shirt, I readily told him; he put them on again, 
and covered me over, swore pretty hard at me and left 
me. I made no reply. 

I believe I had watchers that night, but they had less 
cause to complain than before, for I believe that I rested 
tolerably well. In the morning when Ben dressed my 
blister I was quite relieved from the pain which had tor¬ 
tured my breast, and Ben was in a much pleasanter 
mood than when he caught me with my shirt off. But I 
was extremely languid, and so continued for some time. 


96 


MEMOIRS OF 


1 do not now recollect the name of our hospital physi¬ 
cian; but I believe his name was Ran. At any rate he 
was one of the best of men and paid especial attention to 
the sick. Uncle Lawrence (as every body called him) 
was overseer; he was a prisoner, and had been from the 
commencement of the war. 

Under veiy peculiar circumstances he went into the 
hospital at an early period, and there become a convert to 
the Christian religion; and such was his deportment, 
that he commanded the respect of all who knew him. 
The physicians had so much confidence in him that they 
made him overseer of the nurses and the sick. 

It was a great blessing to the sick in those hospitals, 
that they were under the care of such a physician as doc¬ 
tor Ran, and that the nurses should be under the care 
and direction of a man so affectionate and faithful as 
was Mr. Lawrence. 

When it pleased God to restore my reason, I discov¬ 
ered that I was exceeding weak and continued so for 
some time. I was not able to raise myself up in bed.— 

I ascertained that my cure was doubtful in the judgment 
of the physicians: and when I began to mend it was ve¬ 
ry slowly. 

One day two of my young friends came to me and said, 
‘‘Sherburne, why do you lie here? come you must get up.” 
I told them I should he glad if I could. They said they 
would help me, and that the doctor had directed them 
to help me up. They got my clothes and put them on. 
This was probably sometime in the month of May.— 
They led me into the yard; one on each side, holding 
me up by the arms. As soon as they had led me into 
the sun, I fainted: they took me up and carried me into 
the room where there were two outer doors which were 
opposite to each other, in which were several couches to 
accommodate the convalescent. Here they laid me 
on a couch. I spent most of the day in this place, and 
felt some refreshed. The next day I was taken out a- 
gain, and in the course of the day I was able to stand 
alone, with a staff in my hand. I was treated very kind¬ 
ly by the doctor and uncle Lawrence, but I gained but 
very slowly. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


97 


Several week's before this time, the prisoners had re¬ 
ceived the intelligence that shortly there was to be a 
general exchange of prisoners, and about the time I got 
on to my legs again, the Lady’s Adventure, a ship of 
four hundred tons, commanded by Capt. Mitchel Hum¬ 
ble, had actually got into the sound or harbor. There 
was joy indescribable among the prisoners. My doctor, 
in order to raise my spirits, told me the ship had arrived 
to take us to our own country; that she would sail in two or 
three weeks, and that I must take the best possible care 
of myself, that I might go in her. A week or ten days 
passed away and I mended very slowly. 

The ship before mentioned was bound to Boston, and 
in a week or two another was going to Philadelphia, and 
in a few weeks after a third would sail with the remain¬ 
der of the prisoners for some port of the United States. 

Finally the time arrived for the doctor to discharge 
from the hospital all that were sufficiently recovered.— 
Every man went to his own bed and sat until the doc¬ 
tor passed him. He passed by me with some pleasant 
ceremony. But I perceived he had not taken down my 
name. My heart almost sunk within me. I arose and 
followed him, and as he was about leaving the hospital, 
I said to him “ Doctor, I believe you have not got my 
name.” He replied, u God bless you, my son; it will 
never do for you to think of leaving the hospital in your 
situation. You are a more suitable person to enter a 
hospital than to leave one.” “ Sir,” said I, “ you prom¬ 
ised me that I should go in this ship.” Said he, “ I was 
in hopes you would have been able to go in her, but you 
are so sick that it will never do: you would not live to 
get outside the Eddystone; there are four hundred or 
more going in her, and they will be so crowded, that you 
would die directly. I should be very happy to discharge 
you if I thought it would do. We have had such a hard 
time in raising you so far, that I should be very sorry to 
lose you now, and especially through imprudence.— 
You would never live to see America, and your blood 
would be on my head. There is another ship going in a 
week or two, have patience, and stay until she is ready, 
and by that time I am in hopes you will be strong enough 
9 


98 


MEMOIRS OF 


to go.” “ But, Sir,” said I, “ the other ship is going to 
Philadelphia, and I should be a great way from home.” 
“No matter for that,” replied the doctor, “ you will be 
in your own country.” “ But, Sir,” said I, “all my ac¬ 
quaintance and townsmen are going in this ship, and 
she is going near my home, and if 1 do not go in her, I 
shall never get home. I have a number of good friends 
up in the prison, who are going in this; I am sure they 
will take good care of me; but if they all go and leave 
me, I shall never get home.” Uncle Lawrence, and 
twenty others were listening to the doctor and me, and 
as I turned my eyes toward uncle Lawrence, I saw the 
tears trickling down his manly face. The beloved doc¬ 
tor was in the same condition, and my readers must judge 
for themselves, how it was with me. Uncle Lawrence 
then spoke and said, “Doctor, I don’t know but that you 
may as well discharge him, and as I am going in the 
same ship, if you will discharge him I will give you my 
word, that I will pay particular attention to him.” “O 
■well, well,” said the doctor, “ in that case, uncle Law¬ 
rence, I will venture to discharge him; for I can trust 
him in your care, and I hope he will do well, but if he 
dies, his blood must be upon his own head.” “ O, Sir,” 
said I, (feeling almost well,) “ the sea always agrees 
well with me, and I believe I should gain faster on board 
the ship than I should here.” The good doctor placed 
my name on the list of the discharged, gave us the best 
wishes, and left us. The same day we were guarded 
from the hospital to the prison. 

I shall now venture to detail some peculiar occurren¬ 
ces which I had heretofore resolved never to express 
either with my tongue or pen. But having receded 
from that determination, I shall narrate the circumstances 
as correctly as my memory will admit. When our com¬ 
pany from the hospital entered the prison yard, the first 
of my townsmen who spoke to me w as John B—r. He 
was a respectable young man, but rather profane, and 
at this time he had been drinking rather freely. As they 
were to leave the prison that afternoon, they allowed 
themselves some strong beer, which at any time might 
be had at the gate; and although most of them were 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


99 


destitute of money, those who had it would supply the 
destitute, and indeed they were all lively and rather noi¬ 
sy, hut this was not to be wondered at on the present 
occasion. John B—r accosted me as follows: “Why 
d—n ye, Sherburne, are you alive? We heard you were 
dead. Why I thought the d—1 had got you before this 
time. We did’nt know tho’ but that you might go to 
heaven. Why they said that Sherburne was as crazy as 
the d-1, down there in the hospital, and that he pray¬ 

ed like a minister. I don’t know but that you might 
have gone to heaven.” 

If 1 had been detected in the grossest villainy, I should 
not have felt more mortified. I did not know that there 
was a creature in existence that had ever heard me pray; 
and was ashamed to have it known among my shipmates, 
that I prayed. 

Such is the depravity of the human heart, that we are 
ashamed to have it thought that we have any true rever¬ 
ence for God or any regard for the eternal welfare of the 
immortal soul. I hurried out of Jack’s sight as soon as 
possible, and began to reflect on the scenes through which 
I had. passed in the hospital, and in addition to those 
which I have already related, the followiag came fresh 
into my mind. 

I recollected that while in the hospital, I had the impres¬ 
sion, that myself, and many others, were on an exten¬ 
sive bay of broken ice, some miles from the land; that 
myself and hundreds were making our flight toward the 
shore with great precipitation, springing from one piece 
of ice to another; some pieces seemed to be several 
yards in diameter, and others not more than a foot. In 
some instances the spaces were so great between the 
pieces that it required the utmost effort to leap from one 
to another: and to increase our distress, Satan was pur¬ 
suing hard after us. I have no recollection of having 
seen him, but I have of hearing the shrieks of others 
whom he caught, and was every moment in fear of being 
caught myself. I did not dare to look behind me, lest it 
should retard my flight. It is utterly impossible to de¬ 
scribe the terror I then felt. My strength was so much 
exhausted that it did not seem possible that I could much 


100 


MEMOIRS OF 


longer continue my flight, and my foothold seemed more 
and more precarious, and to add to my affliction, the 
land was receding. Consternation and despair got hold 
on me: I thought if I could fly, 1 might possibly escape, 
and at the same moment I lifted my eyes, and in the air 
I saw a place of safety two or three hundred feet high; 
and at an angle of about forty-five degrees. But 1 had 
no wings unless I could substitute my arms lor wings. 
Immediately my arms became wings, and i found my¬ 
self fluttering and rising. The place which I beheld, 
was a sort oi a cupola or gallery; the part towards me 
was of a simicircular form, in which was the appearance 
of three persons, apparently of angelic form, the middle 
figure or person rather advanced, and all appeared per¬ 
fectly stationary. But I found myself by no means an ar¬ 
tist at flying: however I continued to rise, and thought 
best to endeavor to shape my course so as to rise higher 
than this gallery, lest, in consequence of my awkwardness 
in flying, I should make some blunder and fall short of my 
desired object. I therefore rose several degrees *bove 
this object, and when I changed my course, it proved 
according to my fears, and I was beginning to sink, but 
this gallery left its station, and gently waved toward me, 
so that I just reached the foot between the middle per¬ 
son’s feet. I seemed to myself to be quite a small an¬ 
imal. When I first began to exercise my wings and rise, 
my distress and fears began to subside, and my joy in¬ 
creased; yet I was not without fear, and when I began 
to come short, I began to despair; but when I obtained 
my object, I was perfectly happy. I felt something as 
I did when I landed on Cape St. Mary’s, from the wreck 
of the Duchess of Cumberland. 

For some time after John B. expressed himself as be¬ 
fore related, I was very fearful that he or some other 
would brirjg the subject forward again; but I never heard 
any more of it. 

The time was now come for us to embark for our na¬ 
tive land, and the people generally were all life on the 
occasion. Some of them had been there more than six 
years. I felt quite revived on being discharged from the 
hospital; but after all could make out to walk but poorly, 


ANDREW SHERBORNE. 


101 


with two small canes. With difficulty I made out to 
get to the water side, about twenty rods, but was unable 
to get on board the boat without help, and when we got 
alongside of the ship, my friends put me on board. Sly 
Portsmouth and Kittery friends released my good friend 
Lawrence, from his charge. 

Capt. John Seward, Capt. Mark Firnald, Ephraim 
Clark, Aaron Goodwin, Mr. Bodge, and Neheiniah 
Weymouth, having some money, procured sea stores, 
viz. coffee, tea, sugar, &c. which together with the 
ship’s allowance admitted of their living very well.— 
They very kindly took me into their mess, and promised 
to take care of me upon the condition that if I got 
able, I should wait on the mess: that was to boil tea-ket¬ 
tle, &.c. I believe the ship did not lie in port many 
hours after we got on board, before we were under way 
for the land of liberty. My good friends took care of 
me, and I was very careful of myself, and found that 
I gained very fast; and in the course of a week was able 
to wait on the mess. This was only to boil the tea-ket¬ 
tle night and morning; and in a fortnight I was able to 
get to mast head. The ship’s crew had but very little 
to do, for there were so many smart sailors among the 
prisoners, who had been so long confined, that it was 
diversion for them to work the ship. 

We had not been out many days before there was a 
revolution on board. His Majesty allowed us only two- 
thirds allowance; but it was ascertained that there was 
a great plenty of provisions on board. The yankees 
were determined to have enough to eat, and there being 
a number of active officers among us, they and the sail¬ 
ors laid the plan, and at a certain signal being given, 
the men were to rush upon the quarter deck, and take 
the helm, and our officers were to inform the Captain 
that they had command of his ship. They made no re¬ 
sistance, nor would it have been of any consequence 
for them, for they were under forty, and there was 
something like four hundred of us. All that we reques¬ 
ted was full allowance. And having obtained our pur¬ 
pose, the ship was given up to Capt. Humble again. 

We had rather a long, though a very pleasant pas- 
9 * 


102 


MEMOIRS OF 


sage. The ship was ordered to Boston, but having fal¬ 
len in to the east of Boston, and there being a large 
proportion of Marblehead men on board, they insisted 
upon going into Marblehead. Myself and my friend 
Wilds among the rest. 

Thus by the mercy of God, we once more set our feet . 
on the American shore, after having been absent 
about fifteen months. It was truly astonishing to me 
when I recapitulated and brought again to view, 
the various changing scenes through which I had passed 
since I first went on board the Greyhound. It was now 
about two years since I landed at Rhode-Island, from 
Charleston, S. C. I had then a guardian, but now I 
had none; and was moneyless, but 1 recollected that by 
Capt. Wild’s recommendation, the crew of the Grey¬ 
hound had appointed a Mr. Foster, of Salem, our agent. 
I inquired out the gentleman and found him in Salem, 
which adjoins Marblehead, where we landed. But Mr. 
Foster knew nothing of us personally, though our names 
had been returned to him as belonging to the crew of the 
Greyhound. 

He was therefore inquisitive with us, for both Wilds 
and myself had entered the privateer after she left Sa¬ 
lem. When in conversation with Mr. Foster, Mr. 
Tucker, who was first Lieutenant of the Greyhound, 
came in, (it is probable Mr. F. had sent for him,) and 
the conversation continued some time before either 
Wilds or myself recognised Lieut. Tucker; he being at 
this time genteelly dressed,-be made a very different ap¬ 
pearance from what he did when on board the privateer. 

We learned by Lieut. Tucker that nothing was known 
of our fate since we left the privateer, and it was suppos¬ 
ed that wo were lost at sea. We also learned by him that 
the Greyhound after we left her had taken a valua¬ 
ble prize: a brig laden with English goods, stationary, 
and provisions, bound to Quebec; and that the said 
prize got safely into Salem, and the Greyhound was 
captured by the enemy, taken into Halifax, and the 
crew after a short confinement were exchanged, and 
all got home. Captain Tucker also informed us that 
the owners of the Greyhound had built another privateer 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


103 


with the avails of their prize, which was worth as much 
again as the old Greyhound, and gave her the same 
name, and that she was at that time at sea* 

Mr. Foster informed us that our share of the prize 
was sixty-three pounds sterling each, and that the goods 
had been divided according to the invoice. I had left a 
power of attorney with my mother, and She had employ¬ 
ed my uncle Timothy Weymouth, (whom I have before 
mentioned) to draw my share of the goods and of the 
money for which the brig was sold. Wilds’ father had 
also drawn his share; consequently there was nothing 
coming to us. However, Captain Tucker and Mr. 
Foster had the goodness to give us two or three dollars 
each to bear our expenses home. 

We took our leave of our generous friends, and be¬ 
took ourselves to our journey with a pleasure not easily 
described. We had been companions in our travels for 
about a year and a quarter, and had always been in per¬ 
fect harmony and friendship, and had now about forty- 
five miles further to journey with each other; and having 
no other company, it came in course for us to review 
the various trying scenes we had passed together, and 
to anticipate the joys we shortly expected in meeting our 
friends. 

My mother, brothers and sisters had despaired of ever 
seeing me again, until some of my shipmates who were 
ahead of me gave information of my being on the way 
home; so that I did not come upon them unexpectedly. 
I was, nevertheless, to them almost as one rose from the 
dead. But “each # pleasure hath its poison.” There was 
no intelligence of Thomas, and my mother’s joys were 
mingled with pain, as my return excited a more anxious 
concern for her first born. 

Wilds tarried anight with me; in the morning I ac¬ 
companied him to the wharf, where he found a coaster 
going to Saco, which was within four miles of Cape Per- 
poise, where he lived, lie went on board, and there we 
parted,—and have never met each other since. 


104 


MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER V. 

i 

Shipped Boatswain of the Brig Scorpion—chased hy 
British Frigate—Hove off deck load—Escape her — 
Goes to Guadaloupe—-Chased hy the Bee , a British 
privateer — Goes' to Mount Saratt—Sails for Alexan¬ 
dra, Vir.—Chased by a frigate—Captured by the 
Amphion—Put on board the old Jersey—Sick on 
board hospital ship—on board a second hospital ship 
with his uncle—Went in a cartel to Newport , R. 1 .— 
Travels home a sick beggar. 

I was at this time blessed with good health, and felt 
as though I had never been otherwise. It was now un¬ 
speakably pleasant to visit my several uncles, aunts and 
cousins, who had all despaired of ever seeing me again. 

It would seem as if nothing could be more entertain¬ 
ing to my uncles and their children, than to hear An¬ 
drew’s stories about a British man of "war, shipwreck, 
imprisonment, &c. But this business would not do to 
live by. Andrew had now health and some ambition, 
and probably no small share of pride. Men who may 
have patience to read these pages, will remember that 
they were once boys. 

It was now the question with me, what I should do. 
How “ to dig,” I had almost forgotten, and “ to beg I 
was ashamed.” There was a letter of marque brig of 
eight carriage guns, called the Scorpion, fitting out for 
the West-Indies, to be commanded by Capt. R. Salter; 
and my good friend Richard S. Tibbitts, who was my 
tutor in Mill Prison, was going one of the mates, and I 
had the offer of going boatswain, and the privilege of 
four thousand of lumber to the W est-Indies, and as much 
as I wished from the West-Indies te Alexandria, in Vir¬ 
ginia; and from thence to France, I w as to have the 
privilege of two hogsheads of tobacco. The brig was 
soon ready for sea; and I must soon leave my mother 
and sisters again in tears. With eighteen hands we 
shaped our course for the West-Indies. We had been 
out about five days, and were descried by one of his most 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


105 


gracious Majesty’s frigates, which chased us from ten, 
A. M. to three, P. M. under what the sailors would call 
a still and increasing breeze, and though our brig was 
an excellent sailer, she rather gained upon us. We 
were, therefore, obliged to heave off our deck load, and 
then very easily escaped her. 

Nothing especial befel us after this, until we arrived 
at Guadeloupe. Our Captain being dissatisfied with the 
market, shaped his course for Montserrat. The British 
cruisers at this time kept a sharp look out among the 
West-India islands for the Yankees, and as we went 
out of the bay, we discovered a brig which had conceal¬ 
ed herself behind a point of land. She appeared to be 
in rather a careless situation, until we had got so far 
from the harbor, that she could intercept our retreat; 
she then began to make sale and gave us chase. We 
had a fresh breeze, and were running almost before the 
wind; the masts and spars of each vessel would about 
bear all the sail we could crowd upon them. It was an 
eventful period with us, for we that she wa§ deter¬ 
mined to come up with us, and we had every reason to 
believe she was an enemy, and that she had too many 
guns for us. I presume there never was a fairer chase. 

I do not now recollect the distance from Guadaloupe 
to Montserrat, but be it more or less, she chased us from 
one island, even into the harbor of the other. The chase 
continued from eight or nine o’clock in the morning, un¬ 
til three or four, P. M. 

Our pursuer was the brig Bee, mounting'sixteen guns, 
and reputed a very first sailer. She was within a mile 
of us when the chase began, and afier having chased us 
several hours, a heavy squall, (in which she was obliged 
to douse a considerable number of her sails) brought her 
within forty rod« of us, yet she did not fire a gun. 

We had as many hands as were necessary to work 
our vessel, and I question whether there was ever a ves¬ 
sel worked in a more masterly manner. 

The same squall which struck the Bee, in turn struck 
us also; but we having had opportunity to observe its 
weight and effect upon the privateer, were better pre¬ 
pared for it. We being in complete readiness, every 


106 


MEMOIRS OF 


man having a perfect knowledge of his business—we 
took in our studding-sails, clewed up our topgallant- 
sails, and let run our top-sails, jib and stay-sails, and 
immediately commenced setting them again. The Scor¬ 
pion now left the Bee as fast as the Bee had gained on 
the Scorpion in the time of the squall. 

The Bee, notwithstanding, daringly continued her 
chase even into the harbor of Montserrat. The Bee 
kept French colors flying during the whole chase; but 
I am not certain whether we showed any colors. We 
ran as near the shore as we durst, and let go our an¬ 
chor. She came within a hundred yards of us, wore 
ship and hailed us. While laying under our stern, 
broadside too, she had opportunity to have done us 
considerable injury, by raking us; but her commander 
had the humanity and generosity to refrain from in¬ 
juring us, except to affirighten us, and more especially 
the French pilot and his boat’s crew, who by this 
time had got on board, and seeing the Bee laying 
broadside to her ports up and guns out, were in 
expectation of receiving a broadside. 

Some of them jumped below and others fell upon 
their faces, crying out “ foutre d’Anglais.” The Bee 
stood to sea again, under all the sail she could set. 

The fort immediately commenced firing upon her, 
but she seemed to bid them defiance, by hauling down 
her French colors and displaying the English flag, 
and made her escape without receiving any injury.— 
This extraordinary chase and manoeuvreing must have 
been highly interesting to a disinterested spectator. 

This was my first voyage to the West-Indies; conse¬ 
quently there were new scenes presented to my view. 
It was appalling to my feelings, to see the hungry and 
almost naked slaves, toiling, and sometimes almost sink¬ 
ing under their burdens, and suffering the cruel scourges 
of their drivers. Some of them having iron collars about 
their necks, with a chain suspended from it: others with 
an iron collar, with four hooks, fifteen or twenty inches 
long each; one extending over each shoulder, one ex¬ 
tending forward, and another behind. Others, again, 
with a heavy chain fastened to the leg; and in other in- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


107 


stances, two chained together. Their children in gen¬ 
eral were entirely naked. The men generally had no 
other clothing than a coarse apron, reaching nearly to 
their knees; and the females no other clothing than a kind 
of petticoat of coarse cloth. The females are frequently 
seen carrying a tub of water, or a large basket of fruit, or 
of bottles, upon their heads, so completely ballanced, as 
not to have occasion’to put their hands to them. 

Their oranges, pine apples, and other fruits, were to 
me a luxury indeed; but their water was by no means 
agreeable, and it was the advice of our officers, that we 
should drink none, without rum mixed with it. 

As yet l had been very temperate. I had never been 
partial to grog; it was indeed offensive to me; but while 
working in the vessel’s hole getting out lumber, and it 
being exceedingly warm, I perspired abundantly, and 
had frequently occasion to drink, so that by degrees, 
grog was less offensive to me, and I may say with prc- 
priety, that I never really loved it; but I could not say so 
with respect to punch. 

I had been very hard to work one day, and had drank 
freely; in the evening I went ashore in the boat after 
the Captain and with my shipmates went up to a grocery 
and drank freely of punch, and to be in fashion, I took a 
lighted cigar and walked down to the beach; but felt 
very light headed. I felt very glad to get seated. The 
Captain was ready, and we pulled off to the vessel; I 
could handle my oar well enough, but found it rather dif¬ 
ficult getting on board the brig. Mr. Tibbits noticed my 
situation, and the next day was careful to admonish me. 
X was not a little mortified at the thought of having been 
intoxicated, and resolved to guard against this destruc¬ 
tive practice. 

Having discharged our cargo, and taken the avails in 
West India produce, we shaped our course for Alexandria, 
in Virginia. I had on board a hogshead of rum, a barrel 
of sugar, and a barrel of limes. We met with nothing 
extraordinary, until we came near the coast of Virginia, 
we then experienced a dreadful gale of wind, in which 
we felt ourselves in jeopardy. We got down our top gal¬ 
lant yards and masts, and settled our top masts about the 


103 


MEMOIRS OF 


middle of the day; about midnight the gale abated. In 
the morning, we had little wind but a heavy sea; and 
we discovered three large ships within a few miles of us, 
and perceived that they had experienced the effects of 
the gale as well as ourselves. We had no doubt that 
they were British men of war. They, as well as ourselves, 
got up topmasts, &c. They made sail, and gained upon 
us; the wind was light; the sea abated; but there was a 
very heavy swell. 

Our vessel being much smaller than any of them, by 
pitching at every swell, deadened her way. They gain¬ 
ed upon us quite fast. We very much feared we should 
fall into their hands. We were disposed to use every 
effort to escape them. We got out our long oars at about 
eight in the morning, and rowed all day; we did not 
leave off even to eat. 

Our pursuers did not gain much upon us after twelve 
o’clock. When night came on, the wind increased to 
such a degree that our oars were no longer to be employ¬ 
ed to advantage. We made all sail we possibly could, 
intending to stand on our course until ten o’clock, and 
then heave in stays, hoping thereby to aviod our pursu¬ 
ers. At ten o’clock we had quite a fresh breeze, and 
our Captain concluded to stand on until twelve. At 
twelve o’clock we hove about, and kept a bright look out 
until one, supposing that we had completely escaped our 
pursuers; and indeed we had, but they were not our only 
enemies. 

At two o’clock we fell in with his Majesty’s ship Am- 
phion, of forty guns. We were standing directly for 
each other. As soon as we discovered her, we hove 
about; but all our endeavors to escape her were abortive, 
for we were within musket shot. 

It is said of the ancient Amphion, that by the music 
of his harp he built the city of Thebes. The music of 
the modern Amphion, though not charming, was pow¬ 
erful: although she failed to bring us to by firing mus¬ 
kets, the discharge of a few of her heavy cannon accom¬ 
plished her object. We were then within two days sail 
of our port, and we had fancied ourselves almost safe, 
but our hopes of a prosperous voyage were now all blast- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


109 


cd; our property gone, and we had no other prospect 
than that of taking up our quarters on board the old Jer¬ 
sey prison ship, in New-York harbor. 

This was now the third time I had fallen into the hands 
of the enemy. I had but just escaped with my life from 
the two preceding imprisonments, and my prospects 
were more dubious than they had been before. It was 
now about the middle of November, 1782, about one year 
from the time I was released from the Fairy, in Plymouth 
sound. It being night, the sailors plundered us of every 
thing we did not hold fast in our hands. Our Captain, 
Mr. Tibbits, and three others continued on board the 
Scorpion, which was afterwards cast away, but I believe 
no lives were lost. 

Thirteen of us were put on board the Amphion, and 
put down in the cable tiers under two decks, where we 
found near a hundred of our countrymen, who had fallen 
into their hands. We were very much crowded, and 
having nothing but the cables to lay upon, our beds were 
as hard and unpleasant as though they were made of 
cord wood, and indeed we had not sufficient room for 
each to stretch himself at the same time. 

After about two weeks, (in which time we had a vio¬ 
lent storm,) we arrived at New-York, and were put on 
board that wretched ship, the Jersey. The New-York 
prison ships had been the terror of American tars for years. 
The old Jersey had become notorious in consequence 
of the unparalleled mortality on board of her. She was 
said to have been rated and registered as a sixty-four 
gun ship, but had mounted seventy-four guns. She was 
moored in the East river, at or near a place called the 
Wallabout, on Long Island shore. Directly opposite, 
there was a high bank of loose sand. It used to be cal¬ 
led the “Volley bank.” 

1 will here give my readers an extract from an oration 
pronounced by Jonathan Russell, Esq. on the 4th of 
July, 1800, in the Baptist meeting-house, in Providence, 
Rhode-Island. 

“But, it was not in the ardent conflict of the field on¬ 
ly that our countrymen fell. It was not the ordinary 
chances of war, alone, which they had to encounter. 

10 


110 


MEMOIRS OF 


Happy indeed, thrice happy, were Warren, Montgom¬ 
ery, and Miner. Happy those other gallant spirits, 
who fell with glory in the heat of battle; distinguished 
by their country, and covered with her applause. Eve¬ 
ry soul sensible to honor, envies rather than compassion¬ 
ates their fate. It was in the dungeons of our inhuman 
invaders! it was in their loathsome and pestiferous pris¬ 
on-ships, that the wretchedness of our countrymen still 
makes the heart bleed. It was there, that hunger and 
thirst, and disease, and all the contumely which cold heart¬ 
ed cruelty could bestow, sharpened every pang of death. 
Misery there wrung every fibre that could feel, before 
she gave the blow of grace, which sent the sufferer to 
eternity. It is said that poison was employed. No— 
there was no such mercy there. There, nothing was em¬ 
ployed which could blunt the susceptibility to anguish, or 
which, by hastening death, could rob its agonies of a sin¬ 
gle pang. On board one only of those prison-ships, above 
eleven thousand of our brave countrymen are said to have 
perished. She was called the Jersey. Her wreck still re¬ 
mains, and at low ebb, presents to the world its accursed 
and blighted fragments. Twice in twenty-four hours 
the winds sigh through it, and repeat the groans of our 
expiring countrymen; and twice the ocean hides in its bo¬ 
som those deadly and polluted ruins which all her waters 
cannot purify. Every rain that descends washes from the 
consecrated bank the bones* of those intrepid sufferers. 
They lie naked on the shore, accusing the neglect of 
their countrymen. How long shall gratitude, and even 
piety deny them burial.” 

I entered the Jersey towards the last of November. I 
had just entered the eighteenth year of my age, and had 
now to commence a scene of suffering almost without a 
parallel. The ship was extremely filthy, and abounded 
with vermin. A large proportion of the prisoners had 
been robbed of their clothing. The ship was considera¬ 
bly crowded; many of the men were very low spirited; our 
provisions ordinary, and very scanty. They consisted of 

♦These bones were collected and interred by the Tammany 
Society, of New-York, in 1808. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


Ill 


worm eaten ship bread, and salt beef. It was supposed 
that this bread and beef had been condemned in the Brit¬ 
ish navy. The bread had been so eaten by weevils, that 
one might easily crush it in the hand and blow it away. 
The beef was exceedingly salt, and scarcely a particle of 
fat could be seen upon it. The prisoners were divided 
into messes, and each mess made a division among them¬ 
selves of the provisions which fell to them. The beef was 
all put into a large copper, perhaps five feet square and 
four feet deep. The beef would fill the copper within a 
lew inches of the top; the copper was then lilled up with 
water, and the cover put on. Our fuel was green ches- 
nut. The cook would commence his fire by seven or 
eight in the morning, and frequently he would not get 
his copper to boil until 12 o’clock, and sometimes when 
it was stormy weather, it would be two or three o’clock. 
1 have known it to be the case that he could not get it to 
boil in the course of the day. Those circumstances might 
sometimes be owing to a want of judgment in the cooks, 
who were freqently exchanged. Those misfortunes in 
the cooks, would occasion many bitter complaints and 
heavy curses from the half-starved, emaciated, and im¬ 
perious prisoners. 

Under those circumstances, each mess would take its 
meat, thus half cooked, and divide it among themselves, 
as it was. A murmur is heard, probably in every mess, 
and from almost every tongue. The cook is denounced, 
or perhaps declines any further service: another volun¬ 
teers his services, and probably in a few days shares the 
fate of his predecessor. There was a company of pris¬ 
oners who were called the working party: they used to 
go under a guard, to bring water, wood, provisions, &c. 
Those persons, as well as those who had served a certain 
time as cooks, were to he privileged by being first ex¬ 
changed. There were three or four other old ships ly¬ 
ing about the Jersey, which were used for hospitals, and. 
the working party attended on them also. 

When I had been about four weeks on board, to my 
astonishment, my uncle, James Weymouth, who was cap¬ 
tured with me at Charleston, S. C. was brought on board. 
He also had been on a voyage to the West Indies, and 


112 


MEMOIRS OF 


was captured on his return home. It was with emotions 
of deep regret, accompanied with some small degree of 
joy, that we met together on board this dismal ship. We 
had not seen each other since we were captured together 
in Charleston. I shall have occasion to speak hereafter 
of this man, on the list of my best friends, viz. Powers, 
Fox, Tibbits, and those other gentlemen before named, 
who bestowed so much care on me in Mill Prison, and 
on board the Lady’s Adventure. 

The British were at this time so strong at New-York, 
their frigates and other armed vessels were so numerous 
that they scoured our whole coast, and exceedingly an¬ 
noyed our commerce. Some time in the first of the win¬ 
ter, they took the Chesapeake frigate of about thirty guns, 
(from Philadelphia, if I do not mistake) and think she 
had as many as three hundred hands. About the time 
her crew were brought on board, it began to be ex¬ 
ceedingly sickly among the prisoners. The hospital 
ships began to be crowded. The Chesapeake’s crew 
died exceedingly fast, for a large proportion of them 
were fresh hands, who had never been at sea before; 
they were out but a few days before they were taken, 
and the contrast between their modes of living, at 
home, and on board the Jersey, was so great, that it was 
thought from this circumstance they could not.endure 
hardship so well as those who had been more inured 
to poor living. Our daily fare was this miserable salt 
beef and dry wormy bread; except once a week, we had 
a mess of what is called burgoo, or mush, (the Yankee 
would call it hasty pudding,) made of oat meal and wa¬ 
ter. This oat meal was scarcely ever sweet: it was 
generally so musty and bitter, that none but people suf¬ 
fering as we did. could eat it. Most of the prisoners, 
however, had more or less money with them when cap¬ 
tured, and there were boats from the city along side ev¬ 
ery day when the weather would admit, with various 
kinds of provisions to sell. 

As long as one’s money lasted, he could have better 
fare than his most gracious Majesty allowed him. I be¬ 
lieve I had but five or six dollars when I was captured, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


113 


ami with this small sum I endeavored to use the strictest 
economy. 

There were large quantities of provisions brought 
from the city and sold to the prisoners, of the following 
description. The livers and lights of sheep, cattle, 
&c. were well boiled, chopped fine, seasoned with pep¬ 
per and salt, and filled into the small intestines of those 
animals; and a piece from seven to nine inches long, 
sold to us for sixpence, York currency; that is, six cents 
and a fourth. The most of my money went for those 
meat puddings, and for bread. 

Some time in January, 1783, I was taken sick, and 
sent on board one of the hospital ships. This circum¬ 
stance occasioned a distressing scene, both to myself 
and my uncle. My money was entirely gone; my un¬ 
cle had yet a few dollars: I think he gave me a dollar 
or two, and we parted, with little expectation of ever 
meeting again. The ship on which I entered was call¬ 
ed the Frederick, and was very much crowded; so that 
two men were obliged to lie in one bunk. I was put 
into a bunk with a young man whose name was Wills; 
he belonged to Ipswich, in Massachusetts. The bunk 
sat fore and aft directly under the ballast port, opposite 
the main hatch way. Wills was a very pleasant young 
man; of a serious turn, and was persuaded he should not 
live. At this time my mind was very fluctuating, and 
occasionally deranged. My bed-fellow was running 
down very last, but I was not at that time aware of it. 
We were obliged occasionally to lay athwart each other, 
for want of room: and l found the poor fellow very oblig¬ 
ing and accommodating. He appeared to have his rea¬ 
son until he was speechless, and finally died stretched 
across me. 

The death of a man in that place, and at that time , 
excited but little notice; for a day did not pass with¬ 
out more or less deaths. I have seen seven dead men 
drawn out and piled together on the lower hatchway, 
who had died in one night on board the Frederick. 

There were perhaps ten or twelve nurses belonging 
to this ship, and I should say there were about one nun- 
10* 


114 


MEMOIRS OF 


dred sick: the nurses lived in the steerage, and whatev¬ 
er property or clothing the deceased left fell into their 
hands. If the deceased had only a good head of hair, it 
was taken off by the nurses and sold. The depravity of 
the human heart was probably as fully exhibited in 
those nurses, as in any other class of men. Some if not 
all of them, were prisoners; and I believe they had 
some compensation from the British government for 
their services. They could indulge in playing cards, 
and drinking, while their fellows were thirsting for wa¬ 
ter, and some dying. 

There were more or less of them among the sick the 
greater part of the day; but at night the hatches were 
shut down and locked, and there was not the least atten¬ 
tion paid to the sick or dying, except what could be 
done by the convalescent; who were so frequently cal¬ 
led upon, that in many cases they overdid themselves, 
relapsed and died. 

After Mr. Wills, my bed-fellow was dead, I called 
to the nurses to take him away, as he lay partly across 
me, and I could not relieve myself: but they gave me 
very hard words, and let the dead man lay upon me half 
an hour before they removed him; and it was a great 
favor to me that they took away the blankets that was 
under us. I had now two blankets left me, a -great 
coat, and a little straw within a sack, under me; but 
even with these, I suffered extremely with the cold. I 
have frequently toiled the greatest part of the night, in 
rubbing my feet and legs to keep them from freezing; 
and while I was employed with one, it seemed as if the 
other must absolutely freeze. I must then draw up the 
coldest and rub upon that; and thus alternately work 
upon the one and the other, for hours together: I was 
sometimes inclined to abandon them to their fate, but 
after a while 1 would feel excited to bestow a little more 
labor upon them. In consequence of those chills, I 
have been obliged to wear a laced stooking upon my 
left leg for nearly thirty years past. My bunk was di¬ 
rectly against the ballast port; and the port not being 
caulked, when there came a snow storm, the snow would 


ANDREW SHERBURNE, 


115 


blow through the seanjs on my bed. In one instance, in 
the morning, the snow was three or four inches deep up¬ 
on my bed; but in those cases there was one advantage 
to me, when I could not otherwise procure water to 
quench my thirst. The provision allowed the sick, was 
a gill of wine, and twelve ounces of flour bread per day. 
The wine was of an ordinary quality, and the bread made 
of sour or musty flour, and sometimes poorly baked. 

There was a small sheet-iron stove between decks, 
but the fuel was green, and not plenty; and there were 
some peevish and surly fellows generally about it. I 
never got an opportunity to set by it' but I could gene- 
ally get the favor of some one near it to lay a slice of 
bread upon it, to warm or toast a little, to put into my 
wine and water. We sometimes failed in getting our 
wine for several days together: we had the promise of its 
being made up to us, but this promise was seldom per¬ 
formed. With the money which my uncle gave me, I 
sent ashore by one of the nurses, aud bought a tin pint 
cup, a spoon, a few oranges, and a pound or two of sugar; 
but I question whether I got the worth of my money.— 
The cup, however, was of infinite service to me. We 
were always careful to procure our cups full of water 
before the hatches were shut down at night; but there 
was frequently a difficulty attending this: the water was 
brought on board in casks by the working party, and 
when it was very cold it would freeze in the casks, and 
it would be difficult to get it out. 

The nurses had their hands full of employment gene¬ 
rally by day, and often depended upon the convalescent 
to serve the sick with water. At the close of the day, 
a man would sometimes have half a dozen calling upon 
him at the same time, begging to be supplied. I was fre¬ 
quently under the necessity of pleading hard to get my 
cup filled. I could not eat my bread, but gave it to those 
who brought me water. I have given three days allow¬ 
ance to have one tin cup of water brought tome. I was 
under the necessity of using the strictest economy with 
my cup of water; restricting myself to drink such a num¬ 
ber of swallows at a time, and make them very small: my 


116 


MEMOIRS OF 


thirst was so extreme that I would sometimes overrun 
my number. 

I became so habituated to number my swallows, that 
for years afterwards I continued the habit, and even to 
this day, I frequently involuntarily number my swallows. 
There was one circumstance which I must by no means 
forget. A company of the good citizens of New-York, 
supplied all the sick with a pint of good Bohea Tea, 
(well sweetened with molasses,) a day, and this was 
constant. I believe this tea, under God’s Providence, 
saved my life, and the lives of hundreds of others. There 
was no person of my acquaintance on board this ship: 
some of our crew had gone on board some other hospital 
ship before I left the Jersey. In the first of my sickness 
I was delirious a considerable part of the time. I am 
unable to say what my sickness might be denominated; 
at any rate, it w T as severe. 

The physicians used to visit the ship once in several 
days: their stav was short, nor did they administer much 
medicine. Were I able to give a full description of our 
wretched and filthy condition, I should almost question 
whether it would be credited. I have but little recol¬ 
lection about the state of my mind while on board this 
ship. This much, however, I still recollect; that I was 
fearful I should die, and that hell would be my portion. 
I prayed for mercy, and promised amendment of life, if 
God would spare me. 

H ow justly do such wretches deserve the lowest hell, 
who being so frequently and so powerfully admonished, 
still persist in transgression. 

It was God’s good pleasure to raise me up once more, 
so that I could just make out to walk, and I was again 
returned to the Jersey prison ship. 

My first object, of course, was to find my uncle. As 
I went below, all things looked melancholy. I inquired 
for, and found my uncle: but alas! he was sick—he was 
very sick, and was called to go on board the same boat 
that I had come in. We could not, therefore, be indulg¬ 
ed with each other’s company for five minutes. This 
was indeed an unspeakable treat to me: he seemed 
very much discouraged, and with tears in his eyes,he bade 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


] 17 


me adieu, with little expectation of ever seeing me again 
in this world. I will leave my readers to judge of my 
feelings. Stephen Nichols, a lad about my age, was the 
only person I could find of our crew, and his circum¬ 
stances were much like my own. He had been sick, 
and was at that time quite poorly, and low spirited. He 
informed me of the fate of Mr. Daniel Davis, our gun¬ 
ner; his feet and legs had been frozen; and finally, he 
was no more. 

Nichols and myself were quite attached to each other. 
He was the son of Capt. Samuel Nichols, who was a 
brother to Capt. lchabod, the owner of the Scorpion. 
We stalked about the decks together, lamenting our for¬ 
lorn condition. In a few days there came orders to re¬ 
move all the prisoners from the Jersey, on board of 
transports, in order to cleanse the ship. We were all 
removed, and directly there came on a heavy storm. 
The ship on which I went on board, was exceedingly 
crowded, so that there was not room for each man to lay 
down under deck, and the passing and repassing by day, 
had made the lower deck entirely wet. Our condition 
was absolutely distressing. After a few days we were 
all put on board the Jersey again. A large number had 
taken violent colds, myself among the rest. The hos¬ 
pital ships were soon crowded; and even the Jersey her* 
self shortly became about as much of a hospital ship as 
the others. 

In a day or two after my return to the Jersey, I was 
sent off again on board an hospital ship; (her name I 
have forgotten,) and on descending the main hatchway, 
the first person I noticed was my uncle Weymouth. We 
were m some sense rejoiced in meeting each other once 
more. We could indeed sympathize with each other in 
some degree, but our situation seemed very precarious. 
My uncle was very low spirited, but he was favored with 
his reason; and it pleased God to continue my reason 
while I remained on board this ship. In the space of a 
week, my uncle began slowly to amend: he had a most 
excellent head of hair, but it had become so entangled, 
that he despaired of clearing it, and gave it to a nurse 
for cutting it off. 


113 


MEMOIRS OF 


While on board this ship, I had some trying scenes to 
pass through. A man who lay next me had been a 
nurse, but was taken sick, and had had his feet, and even 
his legs, frozen. I had several times seen them dres¬ 
sed: at length, while they were dressing his feet, I 
saw the toes and bottom of his feet cleave off from 
the bone, and hang down by the heel. 

On board this ship, I found John and Abraham 
Fall, who were brothers. John was about twenty-three, 
and had a wife; Abraham was about sixteen; they 
were both of the Scorpion’s crew, and were very sick. 
They laid at some distance from me; I could not go to 
see them, nor could they come to see me ; they laid 
together. 

One night Abraham made a great outcry against John, 
requesting him to get off from him. Some of the men 
who were near, swore hard at John, for thus laying on 
his brother. John made no reply: when the morning 
came, John was found dead, and Abraham but just alive; 
I believe he died the same day. Finally, there were 
but five out of thirteen of our crew who returned. The 
remainder left their bones there. I believe that a much 
larger proportion of some other crews died than of ours. 
For more than twenty years past, I have not known any 
person but myself, to be living, who sailed in the'Scor- 
pion, except Mr. John Stone, of Limington, county of 
York, Maine; and whether he is now living or not I can¬ 
not say. While I was confined with my uncle on board 
the second hospital ship, we had intelligence of peace .— 
This intelligence would have been joyful to us if we had 
been able to leave this dreadful place. 

I have the impression that a considerable number of 
the prisoners were released from the Jersey some weeks 
before, but on what terms I cannot say. It was exceed¬ 
ingly trying to our feelings to see our shipmates daily 
leaving us, until our ship was almost deserted. We 
were however convalescent, hut we gained exceeding 
slowly. There \yas a small schooner sent from Rhode- 
Island, as a private cartel, for the especial purpose of 
taking home some who belonged to that place, and the 
commander of our hospital ship had the humanity to use 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


119 


his influence with the master of the cartel to take us on 
board, and to our unspeakable joy he consented. I 
think there were but seven or eight left on board the 
hospital ship when we left it, and I think the most of 
them were convalescent. On our departure we had to 
sign some kind of an instrument with a promise to report 
ourselves at the Commissary’s office in Rhode-Island. 
We willingly bade adieu to the old Jersey and her hos¬ 
pital ships. For that time of the year we had a favorable 
passage down the sound to Rhode-Island. In the morn¬ 
ing, before sunrise, we very gladly set our feet once 
more upon the land of liberty. We walked up to the 
Commissary’s office and according to promise gave in our 
names as prisoners from the Jersey. 

I must here beg the indulgence of narrating a circum¬ 
stance which occurred on the morning of our landing at 
Rhode-Island. However trifling it may appear to oth¬ 
ers, it has left an indelible impression on my mind. As 
we were passing by a bake house, we saw a fine heap of 
fresh coals just drawn from the oven. We being quite 
chilled, went in to warm ourselves; we had not had the 
indulgence of such a favor the whole winter. AVhile 
w f arming ourselves, the baker came running down stairs 
in haste, but noticing two such odd figures, he halted a 
while on the stairs. He approached us slowly, inquir¬ 
ed whether we were from the prison ship, we answered 
in the affirmative. il Really,” said he “you look as if 
you want some friend; are you not hungry ? come go with 
me.” He led us up stairs where his family resided.— 
I found myself so weak, that it was with difficulty I 
could ascend the stairs. I was obliged to reach forward 
and support myself by putting my hands on the steps 
like a child. Having entered the room we discovered a 
beautiful young lady with a young child upon her lap. 
The room was furnished in decent style, the floor car¬ 
peted, brass andirons, handsome furniture, and a nice 
looking young woman as an attendant. “ My dear,” 
said the gentleman, “can’t you give these men some 
breakfast? they have come from the prison-ship.” “ O 
yes,” said the lady, with a very sympathetic and mod¬ 
est air, and immediately gave directions to the girl to 


120 


MEMOIRS OF 


make ready. The contrast was great between our pres¬ 
ent situation and our former abode, and between our 
apparel and theirs. “ Come, sit down, sit down,” said 
the gentleman, “ and make yourselves as comfortable 
as you can; you must have had a hard time of it; you 
have been sick, but you have now got among your 
friends again.” My conscience almost lorbade my com¬ 
plying with his very friendly invitation. I therefore re¬ 
plied, “ Sir, we are not fit to be where clean people are.” 
“ O never mind that,” said the gentleman, “ sit down, 
sit down.” “But to tell you the truth, Sir, we are lousy!” 
“O well,” said he, “ifyou should drop a few of them, 
we shall not be so bad off as you are; sit down, sit 
down.” 

The very modest and friendly deportment of this charm¬ 
ing lady, deeply affected me, and I could not prevent 
the tears flowing freely from my eyes; for instead of 
shewinga haughty, disdainful temper, which some would 
on a husband’s introducing a couple of dirty, lousy fel¬ 
lows, her deportment was the most amiable ; and indeed 
if I had not seen the tears in her eye,s I do not know 
that I should have shed any myself. 

I scarcely know of any one circumstance of my life 
that has more frequently occurred to my mind than this. 
I have often, very often, said within, “ a thousand- bless¬ 
ings on thee rest.” 

That babe, if living, must now be more than forty-fouT 
years old. I very much regret that I do not know the 
name; I have never been on Rhode-Isiand since, but I 
believe if I were in that street again, I could point out 
the house. Our breakfast consisted of chocolate, ham, 
eggs, and warm bread directly from the oven. It was a 
consolation, that we had no other company at the table, 
for if there had been, it must have been offensive to 
them and mortifying to us. 

For months we had not had one comfortable meal; our 
appetites were sufficiently keen, and we were now in 
danger of eating too much. 

My uncle supposing that I had eaten as much as was 
prudent for me to eat at that time, gave me a jog as a 
hint for me to forbear. I perfectly understood him, but 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


121 


as he continued eating, himself, I had the politeness to 
bear him company; and when he left off, I quit also. 
We could but say to our host and hostess, “ we are quite 
obliged to you;” without in the least doubting but that 
we were as welcome as we were thankful. 

Our next object was to get up to Providence. We 
were moneyless, but the master of the packet boat 
agreed to take our hammocks, which we had packed up 
and brought from the hospital-ship with us. It was 
nearly night when we arrived at Providence. We had 
each of us a dirty blanket, on which we depended for 
our bedding, as we should go through the country, for 
we did not indulge the thought of sleeping in a bed, in 
our condition. We had a few articles of clothing and 
having rolled up our blankets for packs, and strung 
them to our backs, we stepped on shore. We had now 
about a hundred miles to travel before we could get 
home. We stalked up the street, in Providence, que¬ 
rying where we should find a lodging. We could not 
but exult in the thought that we had once more set our 
feet upon the land of liberty, beyond the reach of British 
oppression. 

We had not walked twenty rods from the wharf, when 
passing a druggist’s shop, the gentleman standing in the 
door hailed us. “ Where are you from, friends, from 
JVew-York?” “Yes, Sir.” “ Don’t you want some re¬ 
freshment? stop in at that gate and go into the house.” 
We went into the kitchen, and the gentleman met us 
with a bottle and a glass in his hand, gave us a cordial, 
and ordered some victuals on the table, and requested us 
to eat. Having refreshed ourselves, we thanked our 
benefactor, and went on our journey. 

We had gone but a few rods, when a gentleman met 
my uncle, who was a few rods forward of me, and view¬ 
ed him very closely; and after passing him looked round 
upon him; he then cast his eye upon me and looked 
steadily until he passed me and looked back upon 
me also. He having passed me several rods, he turned 
quickly and followed me, and put a dollar into my hand, 
saying, “You are from New-York, I suppose—here, di¬ 
vide this between you.” He turned again in haste and 
11 


m 


MEMOIRS OF 


left me; he would hardly hear me say, iC I thank you,’ 7 
1 thought he seemed half inclined to give something to 
my uncle when he met him, as he had his hands in his 
small clothes’ pockets, and he seemed much inclined to 
bestow something on me when he passed me. 

I verily thought that there was a contest in his bosom 
between charity and covetousness , and at length charity 
prevailed. This I also considered as an interposition of 
Divine Providence. 

We walked perhaps half a mile, the sun was near set¬ 
ting, we thought it time to try for a lodging: we calcu¬ 
lated only to lie upon the floor, by the fire. I called at 
a door and knocked: a young woman came to the door, 
looking quite astonished. I asked her whether we 
could be permitted to lay by their fire that night ? She 
gave me no answer, but exclaimed, u Mother, I really 
believe these men came from the same place where 
Jack Robinson did.” The old lady came rushing into 
the entry, followed by one or two more well grown girls, 
and began rapidly to question us. After answering a 
few of her questions, I began to urge some of my own; 
and in the first place was inquisitive to know where this 
Jack Robinson lived; for as soon as the girl mentioned 
his name, I recollected that there was a lad of that name 
(if I am not mistaken in the name) came down In the 
cartel. Though we had no acquaintance with him, I 
had the impression that if we could find him, we should 
be sure of a good harbor for that night. They pointed 
us to the house, it was but a few rods distant. We al¬ 
most broke away from the good woman and her girls, 
and called at old Mr. Robinson’s shop door. He was 
a hatter. The good man came to the door himself, and 
as soon as we enquired if Jack Robinson lived there, 
the old gentleman exclaimed, “ God bless you! why 
here is some more of them—why he is my dear son; 
come in, come in. Why Jack has just got home; we 
thought he was dead; we heard he was dead; we never 
expected to see him again. Come in, you dear souls, 
come in.” He was a little old gentleman, and wore a 
small black wig; the tears ran freely down his cheek. 
His heart and his house were open to receive us; his 
wife and daughters were equally friendly. Jack was as 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


123 


lively as a bird, for he had not been sick. By this time 
the sun was down, and we were sufficiently tired to lie 
down. 

It was now a question how and where we should 
lodge. The old man was for having us get into bed. 
We refused, and requested that the carpet should be ta¬ 
ken away, and that we might lie down before the fire 
with our blankets. “ O no,” said Mr. R. “ you must 
go to bed.” “Why, dear Sir, we are lousy.” u O 
well, so was Jack; we have all his clothes out in the 
garden; I don’t know that he will ever wear them 
again.” “ Just let us lie on the floor, by your fire, and 
it will be a more comfortable lodging than we have had 
since last fall.” (It was now the last of March.) The 
old gentleman consented, but he would not agree that 
the carpet should be removed. In the morning after 
breakfast we took our leave of the good man and his 
happy family.. 

The next day I believe we did not get on more than 
three or four miles, and one day we got on but about one 
mile. The weather was cold and we very sensibly felt 
the consequences of eating too freely. I recollect that 
we called at Dr. Man’s tavern, and his sons gave us 
some money. 

Within about ten miles of Providence, we called at a 
large red house, on the left hand side of the road. We 
wished to know whether we could stay over night, and 
found that we could, but that we must expect to pay for 
our entertainment. It just now occurs to my mind, 
that we had been inquiring where we could get some 
horses to take us along, for we made such slow pro¬ 
gress that we were quite discouraged. We found that 
we could get horses at this place. The old gentleman 
was a wealthy farmer, he had two sons who were bach¬ 
elors; they were not very bright men, but I think they 
were exceedingly fond of money. I believe there were 
one or two maiden ladies in the family, and I perfectly 
recollect there was a family of negroes. 

We were plain enough to tell them our situation; 
we only wished to’lie by their kitchen fire. The land¬ 
lady furnished us with a frugal supper. She dealt out 


124 


MEMOIRS OF 


to us our portion much more sparingly than did the ba¬ 
ker, the apothecary or the hatter. In the course of the 
evening we contracted with the old man and his son to 
take us to a village, whether Walpole, Attleborough, or 
Dedham, I cannot now say, but I think that the distance 
was about twelve miles. 

I had with me a new duck frock, which was worth a 
dollar or more; this, with the money which the young 
men at Dr. Man’s gave us, would pay our fare at this 
place, and our horse bill, &,c. 

After the family had all retired except the negroes, the 
old black woman began in a whisper to be very inquisi¬ 
tive to know whether the negroes were to have their 
liberty. She had some such intimations and hoped that 
that would be the case. 

She had a family of children, some of them pretty well 
grown; she told how faithfully she had served her “ mas- 
ser and missey, and how deblish covetous they were. 
They would starve de poor negro; that old masser and 
young massers had money enough and were afraid to 
lay out a copper; that de poor negro had to steal de bit- 
ties, or else dey would starve.” The old woman had 
granted herself the liberty to procure and lay aside 
some provisions for herself and children’s supper. Af¬ 
ter the family were asleep, she got some supper and 
made us welcome to take some with her, and we were 
very willing to accept her offer. 

In the morning we mounted our horses and pursued 
our journey. I rode a small gentle beast, but I could 
not bear that it should go out of a walk. An old bach¬ 
elor went on with us to take the horses back. We went 
quite slowly, and the old fellow was anxious to hurry us 
a little, in order that he might return in season. We 
were obliged frequently to dismount. 

In the course of the day he gave my horse a clap and 
started it on a trot. It seemed as if it would take my 
life away; in a moment I doubled down upon the sad¬ 
dle, caught hold of the reins under the neck and check¬ 
ed the horse as soon as possible. 

As soon as I recovered my breath, I assailed the old 
fellow with such a volley of hard words in seaman’s dia- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


125 

lect, that he turned pale. He no more attempted to 
drive my horse. When we arrived at the village it was 
late in the afternoon. There was a town meeting there 
that day, and of course there were many there who did 
not live on the great road, and were not accustomed to 
see such objects pass their doors. I saw none that ap¬ 
peared to be intoxicated, but a number, and indeed most 
of them appeared to be a little merry, nor would it be 
much wondered at, for this I presume w r as the first town¬ 
meeting they had had since the joyful news of peace. 
Here were many old men, who for the last seven years 
had assembled in town-meetings, when dark clouds 
were brooding over the nation. 

They formed a circle round us and were inquisitive to 
know how we had fared, &c. We answered them while 
the bowl was going round, but not at our expense, for 
we were very cautious about drinking, and if we had 
been more so about eating, it would doubtless have been 
in our favor. At length an old patriot made a motion 
that a little contribution should be made to assist us on 
our way home. A handful of silver change to the amount 
of two or three dollars was -collected, and the londlord 
on his part, would give us our supper and lodging in his 
bar-room, 8cc. 

I well recollect one circumstance that occurred before 
we got to Boston. I think that it was in Roxbury, we 
called at an elegant house to warm and rest ourselves a 
little; the good lady came into the kitchen richly dressed: 
(she had company from Boston to dine with her that day) 
“Bless me!” said she, “why where did these poor crea¬ 
tures come from? why you must be in a suffering condi¬ 
tion; don’t you want something to take? do get some 
wine for them, get me some eggs, let them take an egg 
with a little wine, it will be comforting to their stomachs. 
They must have some victuals to eat; girls, do set the 
table.” My uncle had had a violent pain in one of his 
eyes, and lost the sight of it for a while. This good wo¬ 
man pitied him very much on that account; prescribed for 
him, and had it bound up. Her table was bountifully 
furnished with roast turkey, fyc. 

We had many good wishes bestowed on us by this 

11 * 


126 


MEMOIRS OF 


friendly lady; and went on our journey. When we got 
to Boston we called on Mr. Drown and received every 
attention we could wish. I should say that he was not 
in affluent circumstances, he had suffered in his estate 
by the British while they held Boston. He was between 
seventy and eighty years of age, and a high whig. The 
old gentleman said he was born fifty years too soon to see 
the glory of America. He did not suffer us to depart 
moneyless. I believe he called upon some of his friends 
to assist, and furnished money sufficient to bear our ex¬ 
penses home, and we had yet most of the money that was 
given us at the town-meeting. 

We hired horses to take us on by short stages, and 
when we got to Hampton falls, I had to part with my un¬ 
cle. I had then about fifteen miles to journey, and he 
about twenty, to take him to Epping. My brother Sam¬ 
uel, (who was twenty months younger than myself) hear¬ 
ing that I was on the road, met me some miles from 
home and I was supplied with a horse, but I could not 
bear that a horse should go out of a walk. 

Thus it pleased God once more to return me to an af¬ 
flicted mother. She wept most bitterly to see her poor 
emaciated son. She was yet a mourner for Thomas, 
her first born. My dear sisters were all affection. 

My brother Samuel took me into another room to di¬ 
vest me of my filthy garments, wash and dress me. He 
having taken off my clothes and seen my bones project¬ 
ing here and there, he was so astonished that his strength 
left him. He sat down on the point of fainting, and 
could render me no further service. I was able to wash 
myself and put on my clothes. Having indulged my 
friends with a little conversation, I must retire to bed, 
and I believe I did not set up again an hour at a time for 
twenty days. The next day Dr. Ammi R. Cutter was 
sent for, who paid every attention to me in his power. 

I have before mentioned this philanthropist. It is sur¬ 
prising how I could have performed such a journey un¬ 
der such circumstances; not having strength to raise my¬ 
self over a door step, without a cane or supporting my¬ 
self in some other way; constantly afflicted with a severe 
diarrhoea; and soon as relieved from such toil, cleansed 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


127 


and put into a good bed, that I should so relapse. I was 
also extremely peevish. As soon as Mrs. Fall, (whose 
sons, John and Abraham, died on board the hospital 
ships,) heard of my arrival, she called on Miss Jane 
Muchamore, (who afterwards became my wife,) to ac¬ 
company her, and called to see me. I was very unwell. 
She enquired very particularly about them; and I told 
her every particular which prudence allowed. The poor 
woman was in an agony. She almost fainted. She was 
a widow; I think that her husband died about the time 
that my lather did. My mother and all present sympa¬ 
thized with her; she seemed almost bereft of her reason. 
She queried whether it could be possible they were both 
dead; and asked me many questions over and over again; 
at length I made some petulant reply and this very much 
distressed me; I could hardly forgive myself in a long 
time. The poor woman made several attempts to with¬ 
draw, but it seemed as if she could not leave me. As 
the spring advanced, I began to amend, but very slowly. 


CHAPTER VI. 

Sails in the Sloop Randolph for the West-Indies—Short 
of provisions—Arrives at Portsmouth—Trip to Do¬ 
ver—Sails in the ship Lydia , Copt. R. S. Tibbits, 
who was his tutor in Mill Prison—Sails to Wilming¬ 
ton , N. C.—Escape from an Algerine galley—Lisbon 
— St. Ubes—Gales of wind—Short allowance—Try¬ 
ing time on the coast—Arrives at Portsmouth. 

The war being now ended, there were more seamen 
than the merchants had occasion to employ! and of course 
seamen’s wages were very low. For a while I turned 
my attention to fishing; my strength was not sufficiently 
restored to attempt to take hold on farming; and indeed 
there were but few farmers able to hire. 

I had proposed to doctor Cutter, to do some work for 


m 


MEMOIRS OF 


him, as I had no other way of paying his bill. I went to 
work for the doctor; he had some gardening and some 
farming to do. I continued seven or eight months in his 
service; he paid me my wages, and would never take 
any thing for doctoring me. 

In the spring of 1785 I went a voyage to the West-In¬ 
dies, on board the sloop Randolph, commanded by Capt. 
Samuel Gardiner; tiie vessel was owned by his brother, 
William Gardiner, Esq. We had a very long passage 
of more than sixty days. We discharged our cargo at 
Trinidad. On our return we touched at Barbadoes and 
at St. Eustatia, to purchase provisions, for our passage out 
was so much longer than usual, that we had exhausted 
our provisions. They being very high, the Captain put to 
sea from St. Eustatia with a scanty supply, and before we 
got in we came to very short allowance. 

In coming on the coast in November, we had several 
heavy storms, and being rather weak handed, we were 
much exposed, and in several instances I narrowly escap¬ 
ed being hove overboard. This sloop was about one 
hundred tons and was very unhandy to work; there were 
but four hands before the mast. We arrived at Ports¬ 
mouth some time in November, having been more than 
two weeks upon very short allowance. 

I purposed not to go to sea again that winter, Hut to 
allow myself some little pastime in visiting my friends. 
Soon after my return, I made a visit to Newington, (which 
adjoined Portsmouth) to spend a little time with my un¬ 
cle Furber, who married my father’s sister. Fie was an 
•independent farmer, a very humorous man, was pleased 
with my company, and was highly entertained in hearing 
me tell over my adventures, &c. His only son Jethro, 
was about my age, his eldest daughter Phebe, had re¬ 
cently married a Mr. Woodman Coleman, of Dover. 
Mary was about to accompany me on a visit to Mr. Cole¬ 
man’s and invited Mrs. Hannah Nutter to accompany us. 
We walked to Fox point, which is a half a mile above 
the celebrated Piscataqua bridge, (this bridge, however, 
was not built until some years after) with a design to 
procure a canoe: I obtained one about twelve feet long 
and we set off. The river being more than a half a mile 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


129 


across at the place just below where the Exeter river 
forms a junction with Durham river. We had got one 
third of the way over, when I discovered a heavy snow 
squall coming down the Durham river, and a small 
schooner coming down in it, scudding under the head of 
her foresail. 1 saw but little chance for us; I did not 
apprise the girls of our danger, but I paddled with all 
my strength so as to get in the wake or range of Goat 
Island, which lay near the middle of the river, over 
which, the aforesaid bridge now lies. We were a quar¬ 
ter of a mile above this island when the squall struck us. 
I was careful to put away in season, and was very glad 
to find that by my exertions, I had brought the island 
dead to leeward. 

After I had put away for the Island, I never lifted 
my paddle out of the water; but with the utmost caution 
steered my little ship until she had struck. We had 
shipped considerable water, and had the distance been 
greater, we must have sunk. The weather was pleasant 
when we set off from the shore, nor was there any ap¬ 
pearance of a squall. 

The ground was now covered with snow, and we were 
all wet and cold: but there happened to be one small 
house upon the island, and we were kindly received, 
and having warmed ourselves, the weather became 
pleasant, we pursued our voyage and had a pleasant 
time. We very narrowly escaped with our lives; those 
who saw us from the shore had no hope of us, and the 
schooner that passed us, could have afforded us no re¬ 
lief. I am filled with astonishment, when 1 consider 
how many dangers the Lord has brought me through. 

I spent a considerable part of this winter with my cous¬ 
in, Jethro Furber, in company with Mr. John Coleman, 
studying navigation, and the art of surveying. 

In the spring, I shipped on board the ship Lydia, com¬ 
manded by my old friend, Capt. R. S. Tibbits, bound to 
North-Carolina, then to Lisbon. Mr. G. Horn was first 
mate, and Mr. John Brear second mate. We went to 
Wilmington, N. C. and took on board a cargo of planks, 
staves, pitch, tar and turpentine. In Wilmington, I was 
quite unwell for a time, but on going to sea, I recovered. 


130 


MEMOIRS OF 


Nothing uncommon occurred, until we made the land 
on the coast of Portugal. We stood along the coast un¬ 
der easy sail; it being towards night, we did not wish to 
approach very near the land. The weather was very 
pleasant and the wind light. 

The Algerines at this time were committing depreda¬ 
tions on our commerce. It was but little before this, 
that Capt. O’Brien had been taken, who, with his crew, 
were in slavery among them a number of years. We 
were in some fear of them, and kept a bright look out. 

I had gone below at twelve o’clock and turned in, but 
was not yet asleep. I thought I heard the distant sound 
of a human voice; the Captain was on deck, and busy 
in talking. I heard the sound again, and began to feel 
alarmed, and was turning out, but discovered that they 
heard the sound on deck, and were listening, and looking 
out. The sound neared us fast; all hands were imme¬ 
diately on deck; there was now no question but the 
sound was from an Algerine galley, which \yas by this 
time within fifty yards of us. She hailed in several dif¬ 
ferent languages, and Capt. Tibbits having the helm, 
(there being a plenty of work for every one else,) gave 
them indirect answers. Never were people more alarm¬ 
ed than we were now. Never did a crew make sail 
quicker: we set our topgallant-sails, hauled our wind a 
little, and got out our studding-sails, <Sfc. and by this time 
our pursuer was within twenty yards of us. She feigned 
herself in distress, and designed thereby to decoy us. 
She had laid under the land, without having any sail set, 
and by that means could not be discovered by us before 
night; while at the same time she could very plainly dis¬ 
cover us, and having ascertained how we were standing, 
shaped her course to run athwart our fore foot, (as the 
sailor would say;) but she being to leeward, was obliged 
to depend upon her oars. She had designed, no doubt, 
to have boarded us, but when she saw that we were 
likely to shoot by her, endeavored to decoy us. 

She did not show a rag of sail until she had complete¬ 
ly gained our wake, and then began a chase with a full 
press of sail. But our ship being an excellent sailer, 
we soon began to leave her. And thus, by the mercy of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


131 


God, we escaped capture and slavery. She chased us 
but a very little while, and finding she was no match for 
us in sailing, gave up the chase, took in her sails, and we 
soon lost sight of her. The next day we got into Lis¬ 
bon, and reported the circumstances of this chase.— 
There immediately went out a government brig in pur¬ 
suit of her, but I did not not understand that she ever 
found her. 

We had now got to Lisbon, the capital of a kingdom, 
where there are many interesting things to be seen. Had 
I the ingenuity of Carter, and possessed his powers of 
description, I could write a few pleasant pages in a des¬ 
cription of Lisbon: but this I must leave to abler hands, 
and barely notice a few particulars, which to myself were 
somewhat interesting. I had heard of the destruction 
in Lisbon by earthquakes. Our ship lay near a large 
castle, surrounded by water. It was said to have been 
sunken; and in our boat we frequently passed over those 
places which were said to have been sunken. With 
peculiar solemnity, I noticed some places on shore, w here 
there were evidently the tokens of that calamity. 

The market square excited my curiosity. It was as¬ 
tonishing to see the vast quantity of fruit: hundreds of 
wagon loads w r ere piled here and there: grapes of differ¬ 
ent kinds, were abundant; as w r ell as figs, oranges and 
lemons. I have seen companies of hundreds of females 
at once, riding on jacks, with large hampers slung on 
each side, filled with fruit, going to the market. It was 
equally curious to walk in the fish market, and see the 
great variety and abundance of fish. The fishermen, I 
believe, generally had their families in their boats; and 
I question whether they had any other habitation. In 
their boats, they had a small tub, with some gravel in it; 
and a small iron grate, in which they placed their coal 
for fire, and cooked their fish in earthen pots. When 
they came from selling their fish in the market, they 
would bring large water melons under their arms. These 
melons they used for bread, and ate them with their 
stewed fish. I perceived that they also made free use 
of .raw onions; but I did not see them have any bread, 
or any other vegetable at their meals. Many of these 


J32 


MEMOIRS OF 


onions were very large: some of them as large in cir¬ 
cumference as a common saucer, and not more than an 
inch and a half thick. They were very mild, much more 
so than any I ever ate in America. 

I was very much surprised, when, with some of my 
shipmates, I entered a street which was called Rag Fair. 
The shops were altogether clothing shops, and occupied 
by Jews. The moment one enters this street, his atten¬ 
tion is arrested by the vociferations of the seed of Israel, 
standing in their shop doors on either side of the street, 
beckoning to you, &c. with almost all kinds of gestures; 
endeavoring to win your attention, and get you into their 
shops. As you approach the door of one, you are sur¬ 
rounded by half a dozen of his neighbors, using their 
endeavors to get you into their shops. He who succeeds, 
is exceedingly accommodating. You are shown articles 
in abundance, and this and the other is shown you, and 
urged upon you, and cheapened again and again, and it 
is almost impossible to get away without buying some¬ 
thing: and on your leaving that shop, you are met at the 
door by several others, who use all their endeavors, pul¬ 
ling you by the clothes, to get you into their shops; and 
you feel happy to escape their importunities, and get in¬ 
to the street again. We several times passed this street, 
for no other purpose than to see those antic fellows dis¬ 
play their talents. 

One evening, about sunset, as I was going on board 
the ship, I saw perhaps fifty men carrying a large cable 
upon their shoulders; and when a certain bell began to 
ring, a considerable number of the men left their burden 
to others, and for the space of a minute attended to their 
devotions, crossing themselves, telling their beads, &c. 
I could but notice how patiently the others stood under 
their burden, until the worshippers returned. 

The streets in general were very narrow, but there 
was here and there a kind of open square, and at one of 
the largest in the city, at a certain corner, the Blessed 
Virgin, in wax, as large as life, was placed about ten 
feet from the ground, inclosed in glass, with the infant 
Savior in her arms. 

All the Portuguese, whether gentle or simple, when 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


133 


they passed by on the side where the image was, were 
careful to take off their hats. I carefully avoided pass¬ 
ing near her. At one time I observed a funeral proces¬ 
sion behind me, and having the curiosity to examine it, 

I stepped into a shoemaker’s shop; but before I was a- 
ware, there was a fellow fumbling about my head, with 
a long pole; he nearly uncapt me, and would have suc¬ 
ceeded had I not put my hand to my head and held it on. 
This circumstance only caused him to be more resolute; 
and he gave me some pretty hard thumps on my head. 
The man of the shop gave me the hint to take off my hat, 
which I immediately did, and the fellow desisted thump¬ 
ing my head. I ascertained that it gave them great of¬ 
fence if one had his head covered in presence of their sa¬ 
cred images and pictures which preceded a funeral pro¬ 
cession. I shall narrate one circumstance more and 
finish with Lisbon. I being on the square near the mar¬ 
ket, noticed a collection of people. I had the curiosity to 
see what it meant. I drew near and observed a dead 
corpse lying on a bier, with a bald headed friar standing 
at the head, in a very grave and apparently solemn tone, 
repeating over and over again a long sentence in an un¬ 
known tongue. 

There was a large earthen basin on the stomach of the 
corpse, which was a female. Her bosom was bare, and 
just above the left breast there had been a very deep 
wound inflicted with a large knife. It was more than 
two inches in length and near the same in width. It was 
a mortal thrust. The priest and Portuguese who stood 
round about, looked sad. I saw that one and another 
would drop a little change into the basin, which contain¬ 
ed probably two or three dollars. The priest appeared 
to me to be soliciting the people to give. 

These affairs wanted some explanation, and it was 
natural that we should inquire what all this meant. We 
were informed that it was the husband of this woman 
who had committed this horrid act; that he suspected his 
wife’s chastity; and it seems he had some cause. As 
she was walking in the evening with another man, he 
followed them undiscovered, and as he passed by on the 
left hand of his wife, with a large knife, which was con- 
12 


134 


MEMOIRS OF 


cealed in the sleeve of his coat, he gave her the deadly 
thrust. It was said the murderer fled to the churcli, and 
put his Anger into the key hole, which act protected him. 
Whether the money was to pay her funeral charges, or 
to pay the priest for getting her soul out of purgatory, or 
for any other purpose, 1 shall not undertake to say. 

We took in a part of our cargo at Lisbon, and had to 
go to St. Ubes for the remainder, and were with a num¬ 
ber of other vessels convoyed off the coast by a Portu¬ 
guese frigate. On our passage to America, we had sev¬ 
eral heavy gales of wind, and our ship being very heav¬ 
ily laden with salt, laboured exceedingly. As we 
approached the coast, late in November, we had heavy 
winds against us, and were several times driven back, 
split our sails, got very short of provisions and fuel, ship¬ 
ped many heavy seas, our quarter boards were stove, 
our caboose was carried overboard, and our long boat 
several times knocked out of her chocks. 

I had on board two boxes of chocolate, which I had 
carried for an adventure; but the duties were so high in 
Lisbon, that I could not sell it to any advantage. I found 
a market for it on our passage home, and it seemed to be 
the means of saving both the ship and our lives, for we 
were reduced to less than a quarter allowance of provis¬ 
ion, and we used to have a pint of chocolate twice a day. 
Our ship was so heavy laden that in bad weather we had 
to pump, to keep her free. At one time in a heavy gale, 
she leaked so much, we almost despaired of ever freeing 
her, and were very fearful that in a few hours we should 
all make our graves in the ocean; but God was gracious¬ 
ly pleased to preserve us, and bring us once more into 
our much desired haven. 

Shortly after our arrival, my uncle James Weymouth 
made us a visit at Portsmouth. He had not been at sea 
since our imprisonment on board the Jersey. He had 
bought a lot of good new land in the plantation of Fran- 
cisborough, (now the town of Cornish.) He was an un¬ 
commonly stout man; he had not been on board the Jer¬ 
sey so long as myself, by nearly two months, nor was his 
constitution materially injured. 

He had made rapid progress in clearing his farm, and 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


135 


was one of the richest settlers in the place. He insisted 
much on my making him a visit and spending the winter 
with fiim. He thought my education quite sufficient to 
keep a country school, he did not doubt but that he 
could get one for me. I was rather reluctant in comply¬ 
ing with his request; but as he insisted that I must make 
a visit at least, I promised I would come and see him in 
the course of four or live weeks, but would not promise 
any further. Heretofore I had been tolerably.temperate 
lor a sailor of those times. There had been few instan¬ 
ces in which I had been disguised with ardent spirits. 
There were several young men in Portsmouth with whom 
1 was particularly intimate; and we had got into a habit 
of drinking quite too much; although we did not get drunk. 
This circumstance alarmed me, for I found it to be a 
growing evil, and resolved on a reformation, but yet con¬ 
tinued the practice with the determination that this should 
be the last time. But while continuing to associate with 
those comrades, it was very difficult to forbear. It is too 
often the case among sailors, that when one proposes 
a reformation, he is ridiculed and combatted by his ship¬ 
mates, and they use greater exertions to increase liis cor¬ 
ruptions than they w r ould have done had he made no pro¬ 
posal for a reformation. 

It seemed to be a gracious providence in my favor, 
that at this time, I should leave Portsmouth for the coun¬ 
try. Cornish lies in the state of Maine, (then district of 
Maine) on the west side of Saco river, in the county of 
York, about thirty miles from the sea, and fifty-five miles 
from Portsmouth. 


136 


MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER VII. 

Goes into the country by the solicitations of his Uncle — 
Embraces Universalism—Reproved for using profane 
language—Reformation in Cornish—Religious im¬ 
pressions—Reads the New Testament—The preach¬ 
ing of Doct. Ilezekiah Smith—Becomes more anx¬ 
ious — Mr. Thomas Lord , an old shipmate—(roes 
to Ncw-York to settle his naval account—rVisits 
Limerick—Entertains a hope in Christ. 

I set out for Cornish probably after the middle of Jan¬ 
uary, 1786. I was resolved to drink no ardent spirits, 
lor I was not a little troubled that 1 had made so free 
with it. I had heretofore stood high in the estimation 
of my acquaintance, and had been much applauded for 
the attention I had paid to my mother and her family, 
and was not a little pleased at having a good name. 

I was not so much perplexed about the concerns of 
my soul as I had been when in the storms at sea, in sick¬ 
ness, <fcc. for I had endeavored to persuade myselt that 
all men would eventually be saved; and ventured to de¬ 
clare myself an Universalist; yet I had never attempted 
to examine into that system, nor indeed had I attempted 
to investigate any other. From my own folly and igno¬ 
rance, I now think I can understand the want of caution 
in others, who in so many instances, like myself, have 
become sticklers for this or the other system, which they 
have never seriously, carefully and prayerfully investi¬ 
gated. I arrived at my uncle’s on the morning of the 
third day after I left Portsmouth. He was very glad 
that he had succeeded in getting me into the country, and 
was determined to keep me there if he could, although 
he had not yet disclosed to me his purpose. I found 
him keeping bachelor’s ball, in a decent log cabin; 
he cooked for himself, but got his washing done by some 
ofhis neighbors. At cooking 1 was probably his supe¬ 
rior, having had much more experience in that business 
while I was a waiter to officers. . 

J had but a small school, principally of young men, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


137 


and the principal branch which I taught was arithmetic, 
in which I was tolerably well versed. My uncle had a 
large team ol oxen, a cow or two, and a number of young 
cattle. 1 had made my calculation to return to Ports¬ 
mouth in the spring, and go to sea again. My uncle re¬ 
monstrated against the measure; seamen’s wages were 
low at that time. Probably our treaties of commerce 
were not sufficiently digested, to satisfy the merchant as 
to the measures which he should pursue. Our country 
was just emerging from the state of confusion which was 
occasioned by the war. The present constitution was 
not then adopted, and our principal capitalists were cau¬ 
tious aboYit risking their property in navigation. 

Those merchants who were concerned in navigation, 
rarely made suitable provision for their vessels. The 
two last voyages I had been, we suffered extremely for 
provisions. The vessels and our lives were much in 
danger, in consequence of those vessels not being well 
found. But it is well known that the yankees will run 
great risks, and that common seamen are generally too 
inconsiderate, and there were more of.this class at that 
day than the merchants could employ. These subjects, 
however, were not taken into view by me at that time. 
It seemed to me that I must plod along in the way to 
which I was most habituated. 

My uncle observed to me that no man was more to be 
pitied or more despicable than an old worn-out sailor. 
He argued that my constitution was much impaired al¬ 
ready, that l could not stand it long to follow the sea, 
and insisted that I should continue with him. He knew 
that I could not do half of a land-man’s labor, but he 
offered to give me full wages, and even as much as I 
could get at sea. Eventually I concluded to continue 
with him that season, but I did not relinquish the idea 
of going to sea again. 

In the month of March, Mr. Simon Johnson, whose 
wife was my uncle Weymouth's sister, moved from Ep- 
ping, in New-Hampshire, into my uncle’s house with 
us, and in April, my brother Samuel came from Ports¬ 
mouth; and hired with my uncle Weymouth. My bro¬ 
ther was twenty months younger than myself, and it wast 
12 * 


133 


MEMOIRS OF 


not a little mortifying to me, that he and every other 
man should so much out do me in work. 

I had not suspected myself of being behind the stout¬ 
est of sailors. I had considerable strength, but I did 
not know how to employ it in this new business, and 
although the sailor is called to great exertions, those 
exertions are generally but for short spells. My uncle 
was aware of my infirmities, and frequently cautioned 
me not to try so hard to do as others did; and would set 
me about the easiest work. I had not yet relinquished 
swearing, but I found very few to join me in this pre¬ 
sumptuous practice. 

One of my scholars, a young man about my age, was 
considerably habituated to it. I was one day in com¬ 
pany with some old men, and inadvertantly made use of 
some profane expressions. One asked me what autho¬ 
rity I had for using such expressions. I was speechless, 
and exceedingly mortified; and perceiving that it hurt 
their feelings, I was determined to forsake the pernic¬ 
ious practice. From that day I abandoned that vice 
without difficulty, but rather from a principle of polite¬ 
ness, than from a principle of piety. 

Peter, a servant of Jesus Christ, required of his Chris¬ 
tian brethren, that they should always be ready to give 
to any one who should ask them a reason of the hope 
that was within them, with meekness and fear. 

I have already, in a number of instances, spoken of 
some of the impressions and exercises of my mind, on 
the subject of religion, and the events of Divine Provi¬ 
dence, dependanee on God, and the responsibility of 
his rational creatures. I shall now, as briefly as is 
practicable, narrate some of the most peculiar interpo¬ 
sitions of Divine Providence, which excited in me an 
anxious concern for the salvation of my soul. 

In the spring of the year after I went to Cornish, I 
heard my uncle say “ there was an awakening among 
the old professors, and that Mr. J. C—’s mind was in 
trouble about preaching.” This language was not fa¬ 
miliar to me, and I hesitated for a moment before I 
could comprehend him. I do not know that I had ever 
heard the term tC professors” before, applied to a relig- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


139 


ious character: nor did I know* that there had ever been 
a person whose mind had been in trouble about preaching - . 

I felt rather disposed to trifle with the expressions; but 
they nevertheless, occasioned me many reflections. I 
observed that the heads of families in general were se¬ 
date, but did not know that there was a professor of re¬ 
ligion among.them, nor did I hear any swearing. 

I soon ascertained that they had meetings for prayer, 
&c. but their meetings at first were not public. They 
however soon became public, and preachers began to 
come among them. 

I was perfectly astonished when I first saw their 
preachers. They were dressed in coarse country cloth, 
nor did there appear any distinction between them and 
the men in general. 

I had never before, except once at Chichester, heard 
any preaching, except from the pulpit, nor had I ever 
seen a preacher without a black coat, cocked hat, and a 
band; and frequently had not heard a sermon in several 
years; and probably paid very little attention to what I 
did hear. 1 was told that those people were Baptists, 
but I had no idea of what a Baptist was, and was desir¬ 
ous to know wherein they differed from others. The 
most I could ascertain was that they denied infant bap¬ 
tism, or sprinkling to be a gospel ordinance. 

This rather disquieted me, for 1 had been sprinkled 
in my infancy, and at times it afforded a kind of conso¬ 
lation to me. Not long after this I had some conversa¬ 
tion with an old gentleman who was a Baptist, and in¬ 
quired of him why it was that they should disapprove of 
infant baptism? He told me that the gospel did not re¬ 
quire it. He said, moreover, that baptism was a gos¬ 
pel ordinance, but that immersion or dipping, was the 
mode. The man seemed candid, but I did not feel so 
myself. I felt rather indignant, and viewed the Bap¬ 
tists as a deceived and conceited people. I was by no 
means equal in talking upon the scriptures with this old 
gentleman, and therefore determined within myself that 
! would carefully read the New Testament through, net 
in the least doubting, but that I should find sufficient 
proof in my favor; for I had never before this, had the 


140 


MEMOIRS OF 


least intimation that there was any dispute about bap¬ 
tism. From this time I paid particular attention to the 
New Testament. I began it, and read with unusual at¬ 
tention, with a design to prove infant baptism from the 
scriptures. 

It was my intention to notice with great care those 
passages that spoke of infant baptism; and in the course 
of my reading I paid particular attention to those texts 
which are generally urged in support of infant sprinkling, 
but I was very desirous to find something positive on the 
subject, and having read the Testament through, and 
taken a retrospective view of what I had read, I could 
not satisfy my conscience that there w.as a single text in 
its favor. I could not believe that infants were the sub¬ 
jects, or that any thing short of immersion was the ac¬ 
tion or mode. 

By the time I had read the New Testament through, 
and even before, my mind was more particularly excited 
about the everlasting welfare of my soul, than it had ev¬ 
er before been, except when I viewed myself in immi¬ 
nent danger. 

I continued to read the scriptures with peculiar atten¬ 
tion; and instead of attending to the first rudiments of 
the gospel of Jesus Christ, I undertook to define the 
higher points or branches of doctrines. I found myself 
involved in great perplexity. 

The meetings became more and more frequent, and 
individuals became anxiously concerned about their sal¬ 
vation, and were shortly set at liberty. 

At almost every meeting some new cases of persons 
under conviction, were made known, and at almost eve¬ 
ry meeting some were brought out. I was a strict ob¬ 
server of all that passed, and tried to persuade inyself 
that I was friendly to religion. 

There were instances in which persons would cry out 
in meeting, apparently in great distress; others would 
audibly and with great rapidity express their joys, and 
exhort others to repentance. I was exceedingjy disgust¬ 
ed at those exercises; and in one instance had great diffi¬ 
culty in suppressing my resentment; I was o,n the point 
of openly and violently remonstrating agaiust such pro- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


141 


ceedings. It was in the evening, and I in anger with¬ 
drew, lest I should openly oppose. 

I verily thought that the young man who cried out, 
made all the noise that he could, and it seemed to me 
altogether presumptuous in him. I thought he might 
have refrained. An old gentleman seeing me leave the 
meeting, suspected my case and followed me. He 
found me leaning over the fence at a short distance from 
the door, and very tenderly addressed me as follows: 

“Andrew, I feel distressed!” “ What is the matter, 
Mr. Barnes?” said I. Said he, “I hope you won’t be 
offended, Andrew; I do not wish to hurt your feelings, 
but I hope you will suffer me to be plain with you; I 
was really afraid you were offended, which occasioned 
you to go out.” 

u Mr. Barnes,” sai^ I, t( what occasion is there for 
so much noise, does that fellow think that the Almighty 
is deaf?” “ O Andrew, ” said he, “ if you only knew 
how that poor fellow feels, you would not talk so. I 
have no doubt but that he feels himself an undone crea¬ 
ture, but I trust God will have mercy on him and on us 
too.” I concluded to stay until the meeting was closed: 
but my mind was much troubled because I indulged such 
hardness against that young man. 

I went home with a very heavy heart, and my mind 
was much employed in contemplation. The preachers, 
and professors, and young converts all insisted on the 
necessity of conversion; this business all seemed as 
mysterious to me as it I had never heard Mrs. Bell 
speak on the subject. 

The young man above mentioned, I believe, found 
relief and comfort before the next meeting; he appeared 
very happy, and freely spoke of the goodness of God. 

I became seriously impressed with the importance of 
possessing a new heart. The number of converts was 
increased almost every day. I attended their meetings 
every sabbath and often at other times. The work spread 
into the adjacent towns of Hiram, Baldwin and Liming- 
ton, and converts multiplied. 

I was much disquieted, and wondered why I was not 
called among the rest; for I had fully acceded to the 


142 


MEMOIRS OF 


principle, that conversion was indispensably necessary 
in order to happiness in eternity. 

My laith in LJniversalism fled like the baseless fabric 
of a vision. 


“ This solemn truth did yet remain, 

The sinner must be horn again, 

Or down to ruin go.” 

I was alternately friendly and hostile to the work. I 
sometimes resolved that I would go to meeting no more, 
and perhaps the next meeting I heard of, I would attend. 
I was looking and wishing to be converted; but 1 did not 
wish to have any noise about it, nor did I wish to have 
any one know it but myself. 

I was unwilling that any one should know 7 the exercises 
of my mind. I prayed often, but could not get near the 
throne. I endeavored to take a view of my whole life, 
and brought into view the various impressions which had 
been on my mind, from my early childhood to that time, 
in order to see if I could bring up any thing to ground a 
hope upon. But alas! my sins would come up, and I 
could cherish no hope. 

As I have before observed, I had indulged a hope that 
my prayers had procured a pardon of my sins from day 
to day, as I committed them; but now I felt that all the 
long black catalogue of crimes was still against me, and 
would sink me to endless wo. 

The second season 1 resided in Cornish, I lived with 
Mr. E. Barker. He and his wife appeared under very 
serious impressions of mind. They lived on the main 
road, and had better accommodations than any other 
family in the place. They frequently invited ministers 
to put up there. This circumstance gave me an oppor* 
tunity of becoming acquainted with them. They would 
sometimes converse with me, and inquire into the state 
of my mind. I could only inform them that I was deep¬ 
ly concerned, but was without hope. 

I frequently went a considerable distance into the 
woods to examine myself and pray. I would endeavor 
to tell the Lord my dreadful case; I wished to confess 
all my sins before him with the deepest humility. I 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


143 


wanted the work ot repentance to be thorough, to have 
my will completely bowed; I felt insufficient, utterly in¬ 
sufficient to perform the work. I pleaded with God for 
Christ’s sake, to humble me, and grant me unfeigned 
repentance and pardon my guilty soul. 

I felt myself a great sinner, I acknowledged myself 
to be justly condemned, and intreated for mercy; and 
alter having prayed long and with many tears, I must 
return with my mind equally burdened and distressed as 
when I went. At some times I could weep freely, and 
at other times I could not shed a tear if it would save 
my soul. 

I viewed myselfto be the vilest of the vile. I cannot 
say that I felt so much horror and dread of hell as 1 have 
heard many express, but my heart was like a troubled 
sea, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. 

At meetings I would often be on the very point of 
crying out, but I knew not what to say, nor did I wish by 
any means to say any thing; yet it seemed as if I should 
be involuntarily impelled to cry out; the voice seemed 
to say “ cry!” but I did not voluntarily say, what shall 
I cry?” I very much ieared that I should cry some¬ 
thing in consequence of which I should feel extremely 
mortified. 

Such impressions occasioned most distressing strug¬ 
gles within my troubled breast. I have many times hur¬ 
ried at the close of the meeting to get out, fearing that 
I should of necessity make a noise; for I had not the 
least arrangement in my own mind what to say. After 
I had retired and was alone, I was frequently distressed 
for fear I had resisted and grieved the Spirit. I would 
then query whether it could be possible that those im¬ 
pressions were the movings of the Spirit, when there was 
nothing in particular dictated to me to say. I feared that 
it was the pride of my heart and the stubbornness of my 
will, and want of faith in Jesus Christ; and whether if I 
had opened my mouth, he would not have filled it. 

On one of these occasions, on retiring from meeting, 
I went into the wood to pray that the Lord would con¬ 
vince me, in regard to this struggle, whether I should 
open my mouth or not: but the wind blew very hard in- 


144 


MEMOIRS OF 


deed, and some limbs were broken from the trees. I 
was fearful lest the trees would fall on me, I could find 
no place in which [ could compose myself to pray, while 
in such danger. 

At length I discovered a very large tree, that had long 
before been turned up by the roots. It lay athwart an¬ 
other large tree, and lay two or three feet from the 
ground. I took my station under this tree as a place of 
safety. I had scarcely commenced my devotions ere I 
was disquieted with a train of reflections, which entirely 
baffled my design. I upbraided myself that I had so lit¬ 
tle confidence in God, that I could not trust myself to his 
protection in any place; for I was at once convinced that 
I was as insecure in my imaginary strong hold, as in any 
other place. 

I forsook my retreat and for a while stood aghast. I 
may with propriety say “The tumult of my thoughts held 
me in sad suspense.” I could not dispense with prayer, 
but I could not pray in that dangerous place. 

I returned from the woods and secreted myself in a 
cluster of bushes, and before I could attempt to pray, it 
seemed as if some preparatory exercise was necessary; 
and I commenced a train of reflections. I viewed my¬ 
self a sinner, yea, even the chief of sinners. I very much 
desired to know whether it was my duty to cry out in 
meeting, and I queried whether if the Spirit required me 
to cry out, if 1 should not have something impressed on 
my mind to say; but inasmuch as no particular express¬ 
ions were presented to my mind, I was disposed to jus¬ 
tify my forbearance; and yet I was not entirely satisfied. 
There was, moreover, at that time a heavy burden upon 
my mind, in consequence of my retiring from the woods. 
I viewed myself as justly deserving the wrath of heaven. 
I concluded that it was the devil who suggested to me 
my danger while in the woods, and that I had yielded to 
his temptations, rather than to place a confidence in God 
for protection. 

It seemed as if I was weighed in the balances and 
found wanting, and indeed I felt in want. I freely con¬ 
fessed my many sins, was deeply sensible of my entire 
depravity; but there were actual transgressions, the guilt 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


145 


of which lay heavy on my soul. I prayed that God 
would graciously give me repentance, and forgive my 
many sins; and release me from the heavy burden which 
so constantly pressed down my spirits; but I found no 
relief. I prayed again and endeavored to be more fer¬ 
vent, but all my efforts were abortive. My heart was 
yet hard, and my burden yet heavy. I felt a reluctance 
to leave the place and dreaded going home in my guilty, 
perplexed, and dejected condition. 

1 sometimes almost resolved not to leave the place; 
but having done all that I could do, and yet having done 
nothing effectually, concluded that it would be useless to 
tarry longer, and yet I felt a reluctance in going to the 
house in my forlorn condition; for as several of the fam¬ 
ily had also been to meeting, I concluded that there 
would, of course, be an enquiry where Andrew had been 
all this while; for it was probably near two hours after 
the meeting was closed before I got home. I have no 
recollection, however, that any questions were asked on 
the occasion. 

Such is the pride of the human heart that I was asham¬ 
ed to have it known that I was under anxious concern 
about my eternal state. There were, however, some 
persons who had very critically observed me, and had 
had some conversation with me; but I cautiously con¬ 
cealed the state of my mind as to particular exercises, 
yet I was willing to have it understood that I felt friend¬ 
ly to religion. I had long ere this, had some hard con¬ 
tests with my self-righteous pharisaical pride; but this 
sin still clave to me, or rather I to that; and even to this 
day it has been my almost constant attendant. But I 
thank my God that he has not only discovered this deadly 
enemy to me, but that he has also discovered to me the 
other inbred lusts and corruptions of my heart, and I 
trust he has also given me a hostile spirit to them all, so 
far as 1 have discovered them. 

During the season in which I was employed by Mr. 
Barker, I had a fit of sickness, occasioned by working 
too hard, although he frequently cautioned me to for¬ 
bear, knowing that my constitution was impaired; but I 
was ambitious to do as much as his other laborers, and 
13 


146 


MEMOIRS OF 


yet, with all my exertions, it was impracticable. I was 
obliged to send more than twenty miles for doctor A. 
Hall, of Alfred, to attend me; there was no physician 
nearer, and I was the first person who had called him 
into that town. 

My uncle and other friends observed to me that I 
never should be able to get my living by manual labor. 
This was very trying to my feelings, and the more so as 
I had scarcely ever had been outdone while a sailor, af¬ 
ter I undertook to do my duty before the mast. 

My spirits were good and my limbs firm, my hands 
and arms uncommonly strong, and they had been fre¬ 
quently tried. Often had I been suspended by the arms 
and held my grip, in gales of wind, where others must 
have been plunged irrecoverably into the deep. But I 
had now a weakness of the stomach. Here I first fail¬ 
ed: and a little severe exertion after the stomach began 
to complain, would debilitate the whole system. While 
unable to labor, I felt great depression of spirits, my 
prospects dubious. I was scarcely free from debt, for I 
had become responsible for my mother’s house rent in 
Portsmouth, nor had I any capital to commence business. 
My education was quite limited, although much superior 
to any other person’s in the town. Of course, when the 
winter came about, I had no difficulty in getting a 
school. Previous to my commencing this business, I 
put myself under the tuition of my cousin, Jethro Fur- 
ber, who was quite a proficient in arithmetic and geom¬ 
etry. 

In a few weeks I obtained a sufficient knowledge of 
the art of surveying, to enable me to do any business 
which was necessary at that time in the country where 
l resided. 

It was no small gratification to me that I gave entire 
satisfaction to my employers in my school; and I had al¬ 
so the fortune to have the good wall of my scholars: but 
these things proved a snare to me, for in regard to reli¬ 
gion my mind relapsed in a measure. 

But the liberties in which I indulged, planted thorns in 
my pillow. I found that I could not sin at a cheap rate. 

When the spring came on, I commenced business by 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


147 


myself. I was not able to buy any land, but undertook 
to clear eight acres for Mr. Boynton, and with what lit¬ 
tle money I could command, I purchased such articles in 
Portsmouth, as would .command labor, and expended 
this labor in clearing the land. I had also considerable 
business in surveying; but I generally had to take my 
pay in labor; but this I could turn to good advantage in 
clearing my land. 

I made my home at Mr. Barker’s, and had to go nearly 
half a mile to my work, and chiefly through the woods. 

The reformation had nearly subsided, to appearance, 
I yet remained unconverted, and feared that the day of 
grace was passed. I would sometimes relate the exer¬ 
cises of my mind, at other times I would affect to deny 
1 had any anxious concern about my own salvation; and 
indeed I sometimes questioned whether all that had 
transpired in what was called the reformation, and my 
own exercises about religion were not altogether imag¬ 
inary. 

I have sometimes questioned the existence of a God, 
or if there was, whether in his providence he superinten¬ 
ded the various events and concerns of creatures. But 
here I could not long dwell; I could not reason Jehovah 
out of existence. I could not deny his sovereignity, om¬ 
nipotence or omnipresence; but I was not reconciled to 
his economy. I read many passages of scripture, which 
to me were “ hard sayings ” I had exceedingly hard 
trials with the sayings of Jesus in Matthew xi. 25 and 
26, and Luke x. 20 and 21. 

It was a trying thought to me that the names of any 
should be written in heaven if mine was not written there. 
I presumed that those whose names were written there, 
were written there before the foundation of the world, 
and that if mine was not written, I never should go there. 

I was unreconciled to Jesus because he rejoiced and 
thanked the Father that these things were so. And I 
was equally unreconciled to the Father, that he should 
hide these things from some and reveal them to others. 

The following passage was to me a hard saying. 
“And Jesus said, for judgment I am come into this 
world, that they that see not, might see; and that they that 


148 


MEMOIRS OF 


see, might be made blind.” John ix. 39, the tenth and 
the seventeenth of John; the eighth and ninth of Ro¬ 
mans, and also the first chapter of the Epistle to the 
Ephesians, contained many passages that were very try¬ 
ing to me. 

The reformation, as I before observed, seemed to have 
subsided, and there arose some disputations between the 
Presbyterians and Free Will Baptists, upon certain points 
of doctrine, for the preachers of each denomination fre¬ 
quently preached to the same congregation. The great¬ 
er part of their preachers were Calvinists. 

I was rather in favor of the free-will party, for I had 
not yet altogether given up the thoughts of doing some¬ 
thing toward my own salvation; and yet it seemed that 
I had already done all that was possible for me to do. 

I before said that 1 had some distance to go through 
the woods to my work. It was not often that any one 
but myself passed that way, and as I had for a long time 
been in the habit of praying, it seemed both convenient 
and necessary, that I should at least occasionally pray 
in these woods. But the greatest difficulty was to find 
a suitable place, where I should be sufficiently retired. 
I had probably passed a number of times through these 
woods without attempting to pray, it seemed so difficult 
to find a convenient place. 

I at length apprehended that Satan did not design I 
should find a convenient place, if he could prevent me, 
for I could not pass through the lonely forest without 
having my mind exercised respecting prayer. I there¬ 
fore made it my business to look out a convenient place 
for that purpose. I discovered a very large black birch 
tree, a few rods north of my path; the spurs of its roots 
put out from the trunk so high up, that on the north side 
between two of its largest spurs, a person might conceal 
himself, except on one side. 

This seemed the most suitable place for me to com¬ 
mence my devotions, and here I attempted to pray, but 
my mind was considerably embarrassed; the adversary 
of souls was busy with me. I, however, was very con¬ 
stant in visiting this place; but I could not find that re¬ 
lief that my soul seemed to pant after, and I began to 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


149 


question the propriety of my continuing the practice, for 
it seemed that I could not possibly get near the throne. 
My prayers seemed to be shut out; I felt my depravity; 

I lamented my iniquities, and plead for pardon. I plead 
with God to let me know why my petitions were reject¬ 
ed. I well knew that he perfectly comprehended me, 
and that I could not deceive him. 

Probably I did not at this time realize that there was 
much of the scriptures to which I was not reconciled.— 

I finally concluded that it was useless for me to pray, 
and so I passed by my tree without attempting it. 1 
had gone but a few rods, before I had very hard strug¬ 
gles in my mind: there was a query whether 1 should 
turn my back upon God. I halted, and inquired why I 
should pray, when I could realize no benefit from it? or 
why pray in that place, in particular? And, perhaps, if 
I had prayed that that might have been the time when I 
should have found relief; I could not feel at liberty to 
proceed, but must return to the tree, and attempt to 
pray. I prayed, and still continued to pray; and at 
times would have apparently some enlargement, but 
nothing which was fully satisfactory. This practice 1 
continued pretty much through the season. 

In the autumn of the year, Doctor Uezekiah Smith, 
of Haverhill, passed through Cornish, on his return 
home from a journey to the north. He was, doubtless, 
one of the most accomplished and most pious ministers 
of the age. He put up with old Mr. Joshua Chadbourn, 
who lived at that time in an ordinary log cabin. They 
had had some acquaintance some years before, in San¬ 
ford, where there had been a reformation. Dr. Smith 
was a fine looking man, and genteel in his de¬ 
portment. I was surprised to see how perfectly at home 
he seemed to be in the humble cottage; but I was aston¬ 
ished when I heard him preach. He came late on Sat¬ 
urday evening, preached three times on the Sabbath, 
and left us on Monday morning. Ilis preaching caus¬ 
ed my very soul to tremble: I have a perfect recollec¬ 
tion of iiis text to this day. At the close of the last ex¬ 
ercise, I retired to the deep forest. I went a consider¬ 
able distance, and with a full determination never more 
13 * 


150 


MEMOIRS OF 


to behold the face of a mortal, until I could find the 
Lord to be precious to my soul. I knew that in one di¬ 
rection it was five or six miles before I should come to 
any road or inhabitants. I resolved to unfold my whole 
soul to God, and plead for mercy, concluding that I could 
not make too great a sacrifice for the salvation of my 
soul. I prayed a long time: I made confession of all 
the sins I could remember, and plead forgiveness, and 
that God would pardon those which I had forgotten. 
—I prayed aloud—I exhausted my thoughts, and 
ideas—I exhausted my strength—I almost fainted. 
I awaited a smile from heaven; but I found no relief, 
and began to murmur against God. I argued that I 
had done all that was in my power, and that he would 
not help me. A deep remorse took hold on me: I wonder¬ 
ed that God did not strike dead such a wretch: such blas¬ 
phemous and presumptuous thoughts abundantly increa¬ 
sed my guilt and distress. 1 then endeavored to become 
more fervent; and plead with God, that for Christ’s 
sake, he would humble me: that he would grant me true 
repentance, and forgive my sins, and especially my re¬ 
cent blasphemous thoughts. 

My soul was in deep anguish: I wished that 1 had 
never had a being: I felt as if I was the vilest of the vile; 
the very chief of sinners. It seemed as if my damnation 
was sealed, and that there was no hope for me; and I 
wondered why I was kept in existence. It was myste¬ 
rious to me, why I should have been so long under such 
great distress; that I should have strove so hard and so 
perseveringly to get religion, and yet remain in such a 
wretched state. I plead with the Almighty that he 
would rectify my heart; enlighten my understanding; 
and convince me what he would have done, and enable 
me to do it. But after all I could think, say, or do, I 
still remained comfortless, and seemed to sink into stu¬ 
pidity, and felt as if I was “more brutish than any man.” 
I queried whether I had not presumptuously formed the 
aforesaid resolution, to bring the all wise God to my 
terms. I was ashamed of myself, and concluded to re¬ 
tire from the woods. 

Being acquainted with the ground, by the help of the 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


151 


stars, I shaped my course for a road that led to my un¬ 
cle’s. It was probably past midnight when I crept into 
his hovel. I took a bundle of flax for a pillow: but be¬ 
fore I could lay down to sleep, I must pray again. I 
felt more composed for a few minutes, and then felt a 
heavy trial on my mind, presuming I had fallen into a 
state of insensibility. I lay down, and began to look 
over the various scenes through which I had passed; 
the dangers I had escaped; and the many promises I had 
made to God, and broken. I recollected that my pre¬ 
vious periods of conviction were of short duration, but 
that I had now been long under distress; and feared 
that I should never find favor with God. I believe that 
I slept a little, but left the hovel as soon as it was light; 
for I was very unwilling to have it known how or where 
I had spent the night. 

In returning to Mr. Barker’s, I met my uncle. The 
preaching had very much affected him, and he had tar¬ 
ried all night with one of his friends. 

We had but a very few words together, probably 
equally unwilling to disclose the state of our minds, or 
make inquiries of each other. We had passed through 
hard trials together, but they were very different from 
the present. My mind was more solemn than usual for 
some days, and I thought much on Dr. Smith’s dis¬ 
courses. 

Shortly after these things, I was informed that there 
was an office opened in the city of New-York, and com¬ 
missioners appointed, to settle naval accounts. I resolv¬ 
ed to go personally and settle my own; and I obtained 
ten or more letters of attorney from my shipmates, to 
settle theirs also. 

Mr. Thomas Lord, who was cooper of the Ranger, 
lived in Limerick, about seven miles from Cornish: he 
wished me to take a power of attorney from him. This 
circumstance occasioned me to spend a night with him; 
and as we had been old shipmates together, it was to be 
expected that we should converse upon our adventures. 
My friend was yet in the habit of using some of the 
seaman’s dialect, but 1 had entirely laid it aside. 
In the course of the evening, our conversation turned 


152 


MEMOIRS OF 


upon this subject- My friend acknowledged it to be 
a useless and a wicked practice, and that he had several 
times resolved to quit, and for a short time had abstain¬ 
ed from it; but that he had become addicted to it; his 
neighbors in general practised it, and that it was difficult 
for him to avoid it. 

I gave him some account of what had taken place in 
Cornish for near two years past, and how disgusting it 
had been to me, and the different views now entertained 
on the subject; although I was far from thinking myself 
a Christian. Mr. L. had heard rumors of the work in 
Cornish, but had paid little or no attention to it. It was 
now late in the evening: there was no candle burning, 
and the lire was low. Mr. Lord discovered his wife fall¬ 
ing from her chair; he being near her, caught and sup¬ 
ported her. Much surprised, he desired me to support 
her while he should get a light: he stepped into a back 
room where he had been at work, and stooping down in 
haste to get a handful of shavings, struck his forehead 
violently on the post of a chair, which occasioned so 
much pain that at first he was in fear that he had lost his 
eye; (the blow was on the edge of the bone, directly 
above the eye;) he hove the shavings on the fire, which 
immediately aliorded a good light. Mrs. Lord' had par¬ 
tially recovered, and Mr. Lord soon ascertained that his 
eye was not materially injured, and observed that it was 
of the Lord’s mercy that it was no worse. 

It afterwards appeared that Mrs. L. had fainted, or 
something like it, in consequence of the observations and 
reflections on the reformation in Cornish. I shall have 
occasion to refer to this subject hereafter. 

It is very natural to suppose that I felt a strong attach¬ 
ment to my two uncles (Timothy and James Weymouth,) 
who sailed with me in the Ranger, and who were in cap¬ 
tivity with me in Charleston, South-Carolina. Timothy 
had settled himself comfortably in Meredith, INew-Hamp- 
shire. While a lad, he lived with my father, when I was 
but a small boy: he was therefore to me as a brother, and 
as I was going to New-York on the business before men¬ 
tioned, I thought it to be highly expedient to give my un¬ 
cle Timothy an opportunity to get his account settled* 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


153 


I therefore took a journey to Meredith, about fifty miles, 
on foot; as I was unable to afford myself a horse. I was 
prepared to commence my journey from Portsmouth, 
New-Hampshire to the city of New-York, about the first 
of January, 1788. 

On my arrival at the city of New-York, I presented 
my papers at the office, and was informed that my busi¬ 
ness might be adjusted in about ten days. I observed to 
the gentlemen who were clerks in the office, that it would 
be very inconvenient for me to be detained so long: that 
I had come more than 300 miles on foot, that I was in 
low circumstances, and had but little money; and should 
feel very much obliged to them, if they would hasten the 
business; and they seemed quite accommodating. I 
cannot say whether they were Yankees or not; at any 
rate, they were as inquisitive as Yankees generally are, 
and asked me a great many questions. 

I presume they had been officers in the army them¬ 
selves. They requested me to call again in three or 
four days, and said they would do all they could to facil¬ 
itate the business. A Mrs. Ayres, of Portsmouth, with 
whom I was intimately acquainted, had a son (by her 
first husband) then residing in the city of New-York, 
whose name was Pierce: he sailed from that port master 
of a vessel. I called on this gentleman and delivered 
him a letter from his mother. Capt. Pierce expressed 
himself very glad to see an old townsman. Although he 
had never seen me before, he treated me with particular 
attention, and very cordially invited me to, and even in¬ 
sisted, that I should make his house my home, while I 
continued in the city. There is a spirit of philanthropy 
generally among sailors, which is not always to be found 
in men of other professions. 

This circumstance I view to have been a peculiar in¬ 
terposition of a gracious providence in my favor; and es¬ 
pecially as I was indigent, and the money which I was 
to receive from government, was a very poor currency. 
While I continued in the city, I had sufficient leisure to 
walk round the docks and wharves with Capt. Pierce. 

While paying some attention to the beautiful looking 
vessels which I visited in company with my friend, I felt 


154 


MEMOIRS OF 


such an attachment to my old employment, that I had 
some difficulty in overcoming the temptation to embark, 
and follow my former business. However, I brought 
into view the situation in which I was placed; the re¬ 
sponsibility I was under to my employers; and various 
other considerations, I saw at once the impropriety of 
such a measure. I had also an opportunity more than 
once to cast a look across the East river, where yet lay 
that wretched old prison-ship, the Jersey; where, five 
years ago from that very month, day, and hour, I had 
suffered almost every thing but death. The Volley bank, 
(so called,) on the Long-Island side, under which a large 
majority of my shipmates had left their bones, la v full in 
my view! I shall not undertake minutely to describe 
the sensations of my soul on those occasions, for they are 
beyond my powers of description: 1 must therefore leave 
my readers to draw their own conclusions. 

When I called the second time at the office, I found 
my business settled. I received near a thousand dollars 
for myself and shipmates: my own wages for fifteen 
months’ service, (after deducting several articles of cloth¬ 
ing which I had drawn,) amounted to about seventy-three 
dollars'; worth at this time about two and eight pence on 
the pound, or between twelve and thirteen cents on the 
dollar. The whole sum was paid in paper, which was 
called ‘‘Walker’s final settlement.” I took my money, 
such as it was, and in an office adjoining, under the same 
roof, I was offered the cash for the whole sura, at two 
and eight pence on the pound. I felt indignant; drop¬ 
ped a few words probably rather severe or insolent; and 
directly after, taking a grateful leave of my host, clear¬ 
ed out from New-York the second time, abundantly more 
sea-worthy than when I cleared out from the satellites of 
the old Jersey, five years before. I returned as far as 
Boston, and was under the necessity of r eplenishing my 
purse: 1 therefore sold one o( my final settlement certifi¬ 
cates. It was about thirty-three dollars, and belonged to 
John Hooper, who agreed to let me have it at the “going 
price.” I found these certificates to be in demand at 
Boston, Salem, Newbury port and Portsmouth; and in¬ 
deed there were runners in all parts of our country buy¬ 
ing up those certificates, as well as soldiers’ claims. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


155 


.Walker’s final settlements would bring but two and 
eight pence on the pound, however, at that time, and 
necessity compelled me to part with mine; so that for 
thirteen months’ seruice on board the Ranger, (exclu¬ 
sive of the time of my imprisonment, &c.) I received 
something short of ten dollars; and even this was not 
paid until eight years after the service was performed. 

Whether the time of our imprisonment was included 
in making up our wages, I am not able to say.— 
The time of our imprisonment, however, was not long; 
but it was my lot to endure three months’ painful sick¬ 
ness before I was capable of service again. While tak¬ 
ing my long and tedious walk to and from the city of 
JNew-York, a distance of near seven hundred miles, 
which was performed in about six weeks, I had oppoitu- 
nity to reflect much on the previous exercises of my 
mind upon the subject of religion, and I was resolved 
not to relinquish the pursuit of an object of such infinite 
importance. The excitement of my mind, however, 
was considerably abated. I continued to pray, and, 
alas! I also continued to sin. The reformation had ap¬ 
parently subsided, and meetings were not so frequent 
as usual. In the latter part of this winter I employed 
myself in studying arithmetic and geometry, in order that 
I might be a greater proficient in surveying; there being 
a probability that 1 should have considerable business in 
that line. J bought ten acres of land, and the summer 
following built me a small house. In this season I had 
another fit of sickness. 

Early in September, Elder Zebediah Richardson, who 
had frequently preached in Cornish, made us a visit, and 
there were two women (a Mrs. Renton and a Mrs. Rich¬ 
ardson) offered themselves for baptism. I attended the 
meeting and heard them relate their experience before 
the whole congregation; that being the custom in those 
days. 

I had never before felt such an excitement on such an 
occasion. They had my undeviating attention through 
their whole narration. They appeared to me so angelic, 
that I was not in the least disposed to question the truth 
of a single word they uttered. They were strangers to 



156 


MEMOIRS OF 


me, and lived in the adjoining town of Baldwin. With a 
perfect knowledge of my heart, they could not have ex¬ 
pressed my exercises of mind for years past, more fully 
than they did; but they had obtained a peace, and they 
knew a joy to which I was a stranger. I thought, I ver¬ 
ily thought, that if I could obtain the meanest place 
among the saints—if I could be but a door-keeper in the 
house of God, I should be happy. Yea, if the world 
was mine, I would cheerfully give it, if I might be per¬ 
mitted to be servant of all. This was in the fore part of 
the da^ ; the preacher had an appointment at Limerick, 
a town seven miles south, at four o’clock in the after¬ 
noon, and I was resolved that if I could get a horse, I 
would bear him company, and tell him my whole heart. 

For some time previous to this, I had become rather 
stupid and cold in my mind:—yes, I had even relapsed, 
and fallen into some of my former sins: had become very 
worldly minded; but I constantly found that 

“ Sin’s promised joys were turned to pain.” 

I had no difficulty in obtaining a horse to ride to Lim¬ 
erick, but I must go half a mile to a pasture and take it 
myself. My case seemed urgent: I must go, and noth¬ 
ing except some peculiar interposition of providence 
could hinder. 1 had several hands engaged to work for 
me the next day, but I would not suffer this circumstance 
to prevent me. I must go with Mr. Richardson, and tell 
him my whole heart. I had also resolved to visit two 
other ministers, who had previously invited me to call 
upon them. My mind was under such excitement that 
I could eat no dinner, though repeatedly urged by my 
friends. 

I was very impatient to have elder Richardson’s com¬ 
pany, but to my great disappointment and extreme mor¬ 
tification there was another person going in company; 
this completely baffled my plan. I could not possibly en¬ 
joy the liberty I had anticipated in conversing with elder 
Richaidson. My mind was extremely perplexed, I felt 
myself to be the most miserable of all creatures, and 
wished myself at home again. I began to enquire what 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


157 


my neighbors would say in consequence of my leaving 
my business and going oft’ with a minister. I had made 
it up in my mind before 1 set out, that if any of my friends 
wished to know my business at Limerick, I could tell 
them that Mr. Lord was owing me some money, and that 
1 wished to know whether it was ready for me. 

Such was the pride and deceitfulness of my heart, 
that I was unwilling to have that known of me which it 
was out of my power to conceal, even from creatures, 
much less from Him who searcheth the heart and 
trieth the reins. 1 could not feel at liberty to talk either 
with Mr. R. or the other person present. 

At length we came in sight of the meeting and saw 
many people collected. I felt like a malefactor, and 
would have preferred being alone in the wilderness; but 
it seemed as if I was almost involuntarily impelled for¬ 
ward. 1 had scarcely dismounted ere I saw my old 
shipmate, (Mr. Lord,) hastening toward me with a coun¬ 
tenance unusually expressive of joy and friendship. He 
expressed himselfin the following manner. 

“ How do you do, Mr. Sherburne, 1 am glad to see 
you, and I must tell you that God ha3 converted my 
soul. Esther is converted too, and you were the instru¬ 
ment of it. I thought I must speak to you before meet¬ 
ing began, or else I should not enjoy the meeting. 

f owe you some money, but I have not got it, I 
thought I would speak to you about it before meeting 
began, or otherwise it would be worrying me all meet¬ 
ing time. 1 hope you won’t think hard of me, Mr. Sher¬ 
burne, I suppose 1 can get it for you soon.” 

I could scarcely, (without interrupting him) tell him 
that he need not give himself any concern about the 
money. He was in haste to inform me what had recent¬ 
ly taken place in his own family and among his neigh¬ 
bors, within two weeks; he referred to the circumstance 
which 1 have before mentioned respecting his wife’s 
fainting. It was like a dagger to my heart that he 
should consider the conversation I had had with himself 
and his wife the winter before, as being the instrumen¬ 
tal means of her conversion. “ What,” thought I, (l can 
it be possible that a wretch so vile, so polluted and 
14 


153 


MEMOIRS OF 


abominable, could be the means of a soul’s conversion?’* 
I sunk into dejection and despair. 

Again 1 viewed the scenes of distress through which 
I had been drawn, and the numerous instances of con¬ 
versions which had taken place within the circle of my 
acquaintance since I had been deeply concerned, and in 
how short a time some had been brought to rejoice in 
Jesus. It seemed as if mine was a lost case; that it was 
God’s design to send me down to regions of black des¬ 
pair; and I was, notwithstanding, constrained to ac¬ 
knowledge that God was just, and that I justly deserv¬ 
ed his everlasting displeasure. 

In this state of embarrassment, I went into the meet¬ 
ing; my perplexity continued throughout the services. 
At the close of the meeting the young converts surroun¬ 
ded the minister and appeared very happy. I stood 
aloof, and by the time I had resolved to follow the min* 
ister to his lodgings, and make to him the communica¬ 
tions which I had formerly designed, nay old ship¬ 
mate came to me and insisted that I must go and spend 
the night with him: the congregation had principally 
dispersed. Mr. Lord and myself mounted our horses 
in company with six or eight others; a Mrs. Howard, a 
lady of decent abilities and a good education, with whom 
T had had some acquaintance, was riding beside me, and 
addressed me as follows: 

u Well, Mr. Sherburne, what do you think of all this? 
do you think you have any religion?’' Before I was 
aware I cried aloud, and the tears flowing copiously. I 
hastily replied, “ O dear madam, I know nothing about 
religion; 1 am a poor miserable sinner.” 

In a moment I felt ready to upbraid myself for my im¬ 
becility. 1 was very much ashamed that I had exposed 
myself in such a company; it was some mitigation of my 
distress that they were all Christians, for w retched as I 
was, I felt a reverence for Christians. My friends seem¬ 
ed to wish to comfort me, and especially Mr. Lord and 
his wife. 

Mrs. L. now felt a freedom to express the exercise of 
her mind at the time she tainted; though she had nev¬ 
er felt willing to speak of it until she had entertained a 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


159 


hope that she was converted. They both manifested a 
great degree of sympathy for me. 

We passed the greatest part of the night in conversa¬ 
tion, and I allowed myself the liberty of relating the ex¬ 
ercises of my mind. Mr. Lord argued that I certainly 
must be converted; that I knew much more than he did, 
and he was confident that the Lord had converted his 
soul—that he had no desire to sin, that he felt love to 
Jesus, and had much delight in Christians, and had 
much satisfaction in reading the scriptures. 

“ You know,” said he, “ what a poor ignorant crea¬ 
ture I was; I had never paid any attention to religion or 
to the bible, but God in his mercy to me, took me just 
as I was, and showed me that I was an awful sinner, 
and converted me; but 1 don’t know half so much about 
the scriptures now as you do. I’ll go down to Mills’ 
with you in the morning; he can talk with you, he is 
but a young man, but he is very gifted in prayer, and is 
well acquainted with the scriptures.” 

In the morning we went down to Messrs. John and 
Jacob Mills; they both lived in one house, themselves 
and their wives had lately experienced religion, also 
Nancy Libbey, who was a sister to John Mills’ wife. 

My friend L. introduced me to them all, but I was 
very much shut up in my mind; they spent an hour 
in reading, singing, and praying, and I returned to Mr. 
Lord’s again and took breakfast. 

Elder Richardson, in returning home to Sanford, just 
called to the door to speak to the young converts. He 
said to me, “ Well, young man, do you find any further 
satisfaction in your mind?” 1 replied, u No, Sir, nor 
shall I, unless the Lord helps me.” “ True enough,” 
said he, lt if the Lord don’t help you, you will never get 
help;” and immediately clapped spurs to his horse and 
went on. Fora moment I felt displeased with him, but 
I shortly felt distressed in consequence of indulging 
that feeling. 

I concluded to go on, and call upon the two othet’ 
ministers heretofore referred to. I was resolved no lon¬ 
ger to conceal the state of my mind. Mr. L. could 
make a little business on the same road, and concluded 
to go several miles with me. In passing the house we 


160 


MEMOIRS OF 


had visited in the morning, he had occasion to call, and 
he invited me to call, but 1 declined. 

Jacob Mills was in his tan-house, or barn on the op¬ 
posite side of the road, grinding bark. I stepped into 
the tan-house, while Mr. L. went into the house. As 
soon as Mr. Mills saw me, he left his work and drew 
toward me, and began to speak very freely in representing 
what a wicked state the neighborhood was in but a few 
days ago, and what a remarkable change had taken 
place with them. 

He had my .attention for a moment. He was seated 
on a ladder a few yards from me. Such a train of re¬ 
flections ran thro’ my mind, together with an “ horror of 
great darkness,” that I did not notice him. But in a mo¬ 
ment I felt an extraordinary and powerful change, and 
ere I was aware, my whole soul was deeply employed in 
adoration. I conceived, saw, and felt more of Deity 
than I had ever done in all my life before: my darkness 
and gloom had fled, my burden was gone, my soul seem¬ 
ed as calm and serene as the summer evening, and my 
employment was adoration, adoration ! 

I adored the power supreme: I felt love^ joy, peace. 
A little insect fluttered before my eyes, in which I saw 
more of God, or rather conceived more of God, than had 
been exhibited to me in all the preaching Ihad ever 
heard. 1 said within, what meaneth this? Is this con¬ 
version? I wist not what to call it, but I had no trouble; 
I had no pain either of body or mind; I had no guilt or 
fear; all was peace, and I must adore. 

Perhaps two minutes had not passed away in this 
happy frame of mind, before I was interrupted by a tri¬ 
fling noise that seemed to come from behind me. I turn¬ 
ed about, and to my surprise, saw five or six persons 
regularly formed in a semi-circle, all standing motion¬ 
less, with their eyes fixed upon me, and I believe the 
tears were trickling down most, if not all their cheeks. 
They looked to me as angels, I loved them as my own 
soul; all was silent as death. 

I was the first who broke silence, and said, u I feel 
differently from what I ever did before.” Said one and 
another, M How do yoti feel?” I attempted some descrip- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


161 


tion; but neither tongue nor pen can describe it. Their 
countenances immediately changed, and they all seemed 
exceeding joyful, and very confident that I had passed 
from death unto life, and I could heartily rejoice with 
them, for my peace was like a river. 

We all left the tan-house and went into the house, and 
joined in singing, prayer and praise to God and the Lamb. 

1 was desirous to know what circumstance induced 
them all to come into the barn just at that time. I was 
informed that on Mr. Lord’s going into the house, the in¬ 
quiry was made what had become of that young man? 
He answered, “ that he had gone into the barn.” “ Why 
did he not come in,” said one; Mr. L. replied, that he 
invited him to come in, but he declined. , “ Why, I want 
to see him again,” said one and another. “ Oh!” said Mr. 
L. “ you never saw any poor soul more burdened than he 
is.” “ Why, we must see him again.” ’ Finally, they 
all set out and came into the barn together: It seems 
that they came there about the time that the heavy bur¬ 
den was removed from my soul. 

They freely expressed to me what a deep sympathy 
they felt for me, and the great joy they felt on my deliv¬ 
erance. 

All worldly business was suspended, and each appear¬ 
ed to be as happy as creatures could be in this state of 
existence. We sometimes contrasted our present views 
and feelings with what they had formerly been. For my¬ 
self, I never before felt such perfect freedom in express¬ 
ing what had been the exercises of my mind. My com¬ 
panions seemed to be the excellent of the earth, in whom 
was my delight. I could freely say, 

Cl My willing soul would stay, 

In such a frame as this; 

And sit and sing herself away, 

To everlasting bliss.” 

Our interview commenced about 9 o’clock, and con¬ 
tinued until past noon, before they seemed to think that 
they had any more to do with the world. 

.During this period I had such views and contempla¬ 
tions, that I was almost in astonishment and wonder that 
14 * 


MEMOIRS OF 


162 

a creature so vile and so unbelieving as I had been, 
should have been rendered capable of so much joy in 
God, my Savior. I could not conceive that any thing 
short of the interposition of the power and spirit of a 
gracious Savior could communicate such happiness to 
my soul. It seemed “ like a young heaven on earthly 
ground, and glory in the bud.” 

While in this delightful company,! more than once 
had this question pass my mind, whether this joy would 
continue with me after I should leave this company ? but 
the thought was momentary. 

At length something was said about the time of day, 
(for we seemed ail to have been lost in regard to time,) 
and it being past twelve o’clock, 1 purposed to be going; 
but my good friends would not consent that I should go 
until after dinner. They insisted on a promise, that I 
would call on them again in the course of the ensuing 
week. It was so late that Mr. L. concluded not to ac¬ 
company me any farther, and for a moment I regretted 
leaving such delightful company. 

Having taken dinner, and I being about to leave them, 
each one took me by the hand and bid me God speed. 
When I put my foot into the stirrup to mount my horse, 
a thought rolled over my mind, whether I should not 
leave all my comfort when I left this company; this oc¬ 
casioned a moment’s depression only, and was gone, 
scarcely interrupting my peace. 

I went on my way rejoicing in God, my Savior, whose 
power and glory was richly displayed in every object on 
which I cast my eyes. 1 had often heard young converts 
speak something of the glorious displays of Deity in the 
works of creation, but the half was never told me, nor is 
it possible that I should describe what I saw and felt of 
the displays of divine glory. 

Old things had passed away, and all things had become 
new; I felt such love, joy and peace, that I could scarce¬ 
ly desire those graces of the Holy Spirit to be increased, 
for my cup was full. I was astonished when I contrast¬ 
ed my present feelings with any I had ever before real¬ 
ized. I was perfectly satisfied that nothing short of an 
Almighty power could have wrought such a change in 
me; a change wrought independently of any act of mine. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


It'3 


I being alone, had an opportunity for uninterrupted re¬ 
flection and self-examination; and I endeavored faithful¬ 
ly to improve the opportunity. 

I was very sensible that I had been one of the very 
chief of sinners, but I felt acquitted from all guilt, in view 
of what Jesus, my precious Savior had suffered for 
wretched sinners. I felt as completely justified as though: 
I had never sinned. I could realize no more propensity 
to sin than I should feel to partake of the most deadly 
poison. My love was without dissimulation and my joy 
ecstatic. A criminal who had received a pardon under 
the gallows could not have felt more grateful to his ben¬ 
efactors, than I at this time felt to rhy gracious God, for 
the great deliverance he had wrought for my soul. 1 
could verily say, “ He brought me up also out of an horri¬ 
ble pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, 
and established my goings, and he hath put a new song 
in my mouth, even praise unto our God.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 

Especial enjoyment in religious company — Mrs. Bar¬ 
ker — IT. Chadbourn, Esq.—Reconciled to the Scrip¬ 
tures—Severe trials—Takes a school in Limerick — 
Visits Portsmouth — Baptized — Rev. Joseph Walton — 
Marries Miss Jane Muchamore—County Convention. 

This extraordinary change took place with me on the 
ninth day of September, 1789; and this present day is 
the ninth of September, 1827; that is, just thirty-eight 
years ago. v 

I went on and called to see one of the ministers whom 
I have heretofore spoken of, but found no one in the 
house. 1 called on the other and found him deeply en¬ 
gaged in worldly business. This circumstance depress¬ 
ed my mind for a short time. 

1 shortly after fell in company with Mr. J. Chadbourn, 
a licensed Baptist preacher, under whose ministry I 
chiefly sat. He had frequently talked to me in times 
past, when I felt but little liberty to reply; but at this 


164 


MEMOIRS OF 


time I felt great freedom and engrossed almost all the 
conversation. He seemed to be patient and attentive to 
hear from me a long detail of my previous and recent 
exercises. We rode five or six miles together quite slow¬ 
ly, it being night. He expressed a satisfaction in his 
judgment that I had passed from death unto life; nor did 
it, at this time, give me any uneasiness, as it had done 
many times previously, when respectable Christians had 
intimated to me that they hoped that I was a Christian. 

I had to go forty rods from the road to turn out my 
horse, and having turned him through the gate, the dis¬ 
tressed condition I was in when I took the horse through 
the same gate, the day before, to accompany elder Rich¬ 
ardson to Limerick, occurred to me. I was then a poor, 
dejected, trembling, and perplexed mortal; but now pos¬ 
sessed such elevation of soul, such tranquillity of devo¬ 
tedness to my blessed Lord, that I could scarcely desire 
to be happier. 

I had at this time and place a blessed opportunity to 
render thanks and praise to my gracious and glorious 
God, and to pray‘that I might continue in his love, and 
worship and serve him in spirit and in truth, so long as I 
should live, nor did I neglect the opportunity. I came 
boldly, and I trust humbly to the throne of grace. I had 
great freedom, and joy inexpressible and full of glory. I 
arose from the earth and lifted my eyes toward the heav¬ 
ens, and saw as I never before saw. “ The heavens de¬ 
clare the glory of God, and the firmament sheweth forth 
his handy work.” 

I walked towards the road, and it seemed as if my feet 
scarcely touched the ground. My soul w r as so filled 
with love, joy and peace, that I continued praistng and 
praying all the way as I walked, and yet I could not al¬ 
low myself to go into the house, until I should more for¬ 
mally pray again; and I selected a place for that purpose 
where I had often attempted to pray before. It was un¬ 
der the side of a large rock, perhaps twenty rods from 
the road. 

I went to this place cheerfully, and I enjoyed such 
freedom and happiness as confirmed me, at that time, in 
the thought, that my enjoyments would never decrease* 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


165 


In this frame of mind I went to the house, it being near 
mid-night, the family were all in bed. I lighted a can¬ 
dle, and before I could retire to rest, I must look into 
the bible. 1 read several chapters in one of the Evan¬ 
gelists, and I feasted upon the word. I retired to my bed 
and prayed silently before I lay down. A multitude of 
thoughts rushed in quick succession upon me, and among 
others, my mother, brothers and sisters, came into my 
mind for the first time since I had enjoyed this freedom. 
I wondered that I had not thought of them before, and 
in a moment I charged myself with ingratitude. 

It was instantly suggested to my mind that my religion 
could not be genuine, because I had not prayed particu¬ 
larly for my own family; but my trial was of short dura¬ 
tion. I concluded that it was a suggestion of Satan, 
and that I might yet pray for them, which I did. I went 
to sleep praying and praising; slept sweetly, and awoke 
happy. 

1 arose immediately resolving to go and talk with some 
of the old professors. I went down stairs and passed 
through the room where Mrs. Barker was. Mr. Barker 
had just left the room, I only said “good morning” to 
her, as I passed, and went directly to old Mr. Joshua 
Chadbourn’s. He and his wife were eminent Christians. 
Joseph, their son, lived with them; (he was the young 
man with whom I was so vexed, because he cried out in 
meeting.) I had a pleasant interview with this family, 
and returned to Mr. Barker’s about ten o’clock. 

I had previously engaged some men to work for me 
that day, and they came according to their promise; but 
I being absent, Mr. Barker employed them for himself, 
with a design to work for me again when I should be in 
readiness. It had been Mrs. Barker’s usual practice to 
do her kitchen work herself, while her daughter spun; 
but under most poignant distress of soul, she had left her 
kitchen-work to her daughter, and wenl into the cham¬ 
ber herself. Such was the distress of her mind, howev¬ 
er, that she spun but very little. I very much wished to 
see her, and to know the state of her mind; for I very 
w r ell knew that she was under great anxiety when I leit 
home. I went to see her, and inquired of her how she 



166 


MEMOIRS OF 


did; she replied, “Andrew, you are converted.” I ask¬ 
ed her why she said so: said she, “ as soon as I saw your 
face this morning, I knew that you were converted; but 
I am damned forever! It is just as I thought it would 
be: I had a dream not long since—I thought that you 
and Mr. Barker and myself were on a wreck at sea; and 
that a hand was reached down and took you off, and left 
us, and just so it is.” I told her I entertained a hope 
and peace I never possessed before. “ Well,” said she, 
“ I am gone forever, there is no hope for me!” “ Why 
do you talk so, Mrs. Barker,” said J, “there is hope for 
the chief of sinners.” She replied, “ I believe I shall 
be left to destroy myself, and hell will be my portion; 
there is no mercy for me. I have been afraid, the sum¬ 
mer past, to take a knife into the cellar to cut meat; I 
was under such temptations to cut my own throat; and 
in several ways I have been tempted to put a period to 
my existence; and I really fear I shall be left to my own 
destruction.” I waited, though impatiently, to hear the 
end of her story; and I felt as if I had authority from 
God to reply; my heart was enlarged and my tongue 
was loosed, and I spoke freely to her for some time, and 
besought her in the name of God, to desist from all such 
presumptuous thoughts and measures; and assured her 
that if a creature so abominably vile and polluted as I 
had been, could be saved; certainly there might be hope 
of her salvation. She appeared somewhat composed, and 
1 heard no more on that subject. 

1 believe it was nearly a year after, before she had sat¬ 
isfactory evidence of her conversion. She soon after was 
baptized and added to the church; and as far as I know, 
remains a member of the church to this day. 

Hitherto I had been very critical with professors, and 
suspected that a considerable number of them were either 
selt-deceived, or hypocrites; but now I felt tender to¬ 
wards them all. 1 found that many of the professors had 
long prayed for the conversion of the young sailor; and 
they were not a little rejoiced, that in judgment of char¬ 
ity he was delivered from the kingdom of darkness. 

I passed this day without paying any particular atten¬ 
tion to my worldly bcsiness, excepting to engage two 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


167 


Christian friends to work for me the next day at cutting 
corn stalks; one of whom was a sailor by the name of 
Aaron Hart, the other was Isaac Thompson, afterwards 
a deacon. I welcomed the return of night, that I might 
retire for secret prayer; and in this employment I had 
unspeakable satisfaction. I came boldly and humbly be¬ 
fore the throne, and had sweet communion with my gra¬ 
cious and most merciful God: this gave me great en¬ 
couragement; and I began to feel confirmed in the thought 
that however long I might live, I should never feel less in¬ 
clined to pray, or less happy in the employment: but 
sad experience has long since taught me my great mis¬ 
take:—Little did I conceive at that time, that a perplex¬ 
ing trial was at hand. The next morning Mr. B. went 
early from home upon some business, and I observed to, 
Mrs. B. that I expected some help that day, and should 
like to get breakfast early. I took the bible into my hand 
and sat down looking into it the same as I had very often 
done before; little expecting such an event as immedi- 
afely followed. Mrs. 13. put her tea-kettle over the fire in 
haste, seated all her children, and sat down herself, with 
much gravity. I was immediately impressed with the 
thought that she expected me to pray, and my soul be¬ 
gan to tremble. After sitting some time, I said to her, 
“why do you sit down, Mrs. Barker?” she replied, “An¬ 
drew, are you not willing to pray with us, poor miserable 
creatures?” I trembled, but dared not refuse. I read 
a chapter, and with difficulty arose and took hold of a 
chair; (it was the general practice to stand, in praying, at 
that time.) Itseeifted as if the joints of my loins were loos¬ 
ed .lam persuaded that if I had not had hold of the chair, 
I should have fallen: but it seemed that I must die at my 
post, rather than retreat. My soul was greatly straight¬ 
ened; but “I cied unto God with my voice, even unto God 
with my voice, and he gave ear unto me:” and my mind 
began to be enlarged. I felt as though I had access to 
the throne of grace, and all my embarrassments fled. 
But while I was thus rejoicing in God my Savior, a 
person knocked at the door, which very much alarmed 
me for a moment; but I was enabled to rally my powers, 
and soon surmounted the shock, and found the exercise 


168 


MEMOIRS OF 


to be as pleasant and comforting as before. Having en¬ 
ded my prayer, I discovered that the person who had 
knocked at the door, had entered the room; and proved 
to be Mr. Aaron Hart, before mentioned; a full blooded 
son of Neptune; an intimate friend of mine, who had re¬ 
cently been converted. 

With tears in his eyes, he thus acccosted me, “An¬ 
drew, 1 rejoice to catch you fighting the devil. O how r 
good the Lord is to such wretched sinners as you and I 
have been.” After breakfast he accompanied me to my 
field, where we met Thompson, before named. I had 
not seen those men the preceding day, but had sent word 
to them to come and help me. Thompson congratulated 
me on the news he had heard respecting my conversion, 
and we spent the day very agreeably. We performed as 
much labor as was usual, and found many intervals to talk 
to each other of the superabounding grace and mercy of 
God to sinners. I believe we enjoyed the fellowship of 
the Spirit. On this day I felt what I had long desired to 
enjoy, viz. an entire freedom to express my feelings to 
professors of religion; and had peculiar pleasure in hear¬ 
ing those persons relate the exercises of their minds. 
When night came on, we felt some reluctance in parting. 

In the evening I retired for secret devotion, and was 
very happy in the employment, and felt more and more 
confirmed in my judgment, that the change I had expe¬ 
rienced was a real conversion. And when subsequently 
perceiving that I did possess the least degree of inclina¬ 
tion to practice, in any one instance, the sins to which I 
had been formerly addicted, I rejoiced in the anticipa¬ 
tion of living a life devoted entirely to the service of God, 
whose mercy towards me had been so great, in delivering 
me from the power of sin, and giving me such peace and 
joy in believing. Whenever I thought of what had 
transpired at Limerick, and of that little group of heaven 
born souls, (as I esteemed them,) the following words of 
Watts would occur to my mind. 


“ Td Zion’s sacred chambers, wh ere 
My soul first drew the vital air.” 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


169 

They were to me the excellent of the earth, nor was 
1 unmindful of my promise to them. But before the 
next week arrived, my friends, Lord and Mills, were 
so desirous to see me, and to ascertain how I was get¬ 
ting along, that they came on the next Sabbath to our 
meeting. I believe we were equally happy in meeting 
each other; and in my turn 1 visited them, and spent a 
night, and we were happy in each other’s company; pas¬ 
sing much of our time in prayer and praise to God. On 
my return from Limerick, I called on Humphrey Chad- 
bourn, Esq. who then lived in the south west corner of 
Cornish. He was recently from Berwick, and an elder 
in the ltev. Mr. Mariam’s church. Mr. Mariam was 
one of the most evangelical ministers of the Congrega¬ 
tional church in that region. 

This aged and eminent saint, was, by almost every 
one who knew him, denominated ‘'old elder Chad- 
bourn.” He had two sons who were Baptist preachers, 
viz. Levi and William. I had been previously acquaint¬ 
ed with this old pilgrim, while he lived in Berwick, and 
had great confidence in him. He was indeed one of the 
most eminent Christians of the age. He was very af¬ 
fectionate; and in his address very interesting—he had 
been a professor, I think, more than fifty years. He 
gave me some account of the early exercises of his mind 
on the subject of religion; told several interesting anec¬ 
dotes; and rendered himself very agreeable to me. To¬ 
wards the close of the evening, “Andrew,” said he, “ I 
accoqnt it my privilege to have you pray in the fami-« 
lv: 1 will leave it with you to pray either this even¬ 
ing or in the morning.” This gave me a severe shock, 
and I begged to be excused; but he could not consent 
to release me. 

I had prayed but once in the presence of any person, 
and it was an exceeding heavy trial to think of praying 
in the presence of this old gentleman and his family, i 
therefore deferred the task until morning; but it occa¬ 
sioned me some wakeful hours that night: I was alter¬ 
nately" exercised with hopes and fears until the morning, 
and 1 retired for secret prayer. I plead with the Lord 
to strengthen me to perform this duty, and when the 
15 


170 


MEMOIRS OF 


time arrived, I commenced with fear and much trem¬ 
bling: but my fears very soon vanished, and I found 
great freedom in this solemn service; and I took leave 
of the old gentleman and his family, with geat compos¬ 
ure of mind. As 1 returned home, being on foot, I had 
to go some distance through a wood not much frequent¬ 
ed; and being sufficiently retired, I sat dow n to reflect. 
No mortal eye could behold me, but I viewed the 
eye of Omnipotence to be upon me. I inquired, 
arn I indeed a child of God? am I a real Christian? 
Then my life is just begun. But is this certain beyond 
a doubt? How am I to know that I shall be saved at 
last? That an important change had taken place in me, 
] could not doubt. I knew r that I detested sin, and that 
I felt a love to God, so far as I knew him; and that I 
felt in my heart, good will to men. 

I endeavored to take a view of my life, and could not 
but admire the good hand of providence that protected 
and guided me all my days. I was astonished that I 
had been preserved, when so many of my shipmates had 
fallen a prey to death. I reviewed the two years of 
painful anxiety I had felt, inconsequence of my lost and 
condemned condition. I wondered at the forbearance 
of heaven towards so polluted a wretch as I had been; 
and I thought I felt truly grateful to God for his long 
suffering towards me, and especially for the rich dis¬ 
plays of his pardoning mercy to my soul. 

While thus reviewing the scenes of life, some of my 
partners in iniquity came into my view. I had no rea¬ 
son to think they were converted; and I was conscious 
that in many instances I had prompted them to sin; and 
that I had been a ringleader in iniquity. I felt mv bow¬ 
els yearn for them, and could not but plead with God 
that he would save them. I could have given worlds, 
had they been at my disposal, if 1 had never occasioned 
others to sin. 

At this time the doctrine of election came to my mind, 
and I felt constrained to give it an investigation. This 
doctrine had very much troubled me, yea,‘even disgust¬ 
ed me, as I have already mentioned. I could never 
really disbelieve it; but I was vexed that the scriptures 
should contain such a doctrine. I could not now com- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


171 


prehend it, but had no murmuring in my heart against 
it. From this 1 was led to contemplate the being and 
nature of Deity; and with reverence and humility, re¬ 
flected on his attributes and works, until I was lost in 
astonishment. The language of Zophar, in Job xi, 7, 
10, would well apply in this case: “ Canst thou by 
searching find out God? canst thou find out the Amigh- 
ty to perfection? It is as high as heaven, what canst 
thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The 
measure thereof is longer than the earth, and broader 
than the sea. If he cut off and shut up, or gather to¬ 
gether, who can hinder him.? And that saying also of 
Paul’s; “For the invisible things of him from the crea¬ 
tion of the world, are clearly seen, being understood by 
the things that are made, even his eternal power and 
Godhead.” Romans i, 20. 

The substance of those scriptures I believe was at 
that time impressed on my mind by the power of the Ho¬ 
ly Spirit. 1 was laid low at the foot of divine sovereign¬ 
ty, and was enabled to leave all with God, and pray for 
his protection and direction. 1 rejoiced that I felt recon¬ 
ciled to God, in the enjoyment of a peace that the world 
had never given me. Having spent some time in this 
lonely retreat, I thought proper to pursue my journey. 
I walked slowly, tranquil, and alone; but again those 
who had been my contemporaries in sin, came up to my 
mind. It appears to me, that if a brother should see a 
brother, or a parent a child, doomed to perpetual slavery 
or the gallows, they could not feel more anxiety for their 
release, than at that time I felt for the salvation of my 
fellow sinners. As I was pursuing my way homeward, 
before I was aware of the train of my thoughts, I was, in 
imagination, addressing an assembly on the importance 
of religion, and had gone some length before I detected 
myself. 1 then felt disposed to chide myself, as being 
on forbidden ground; and endeavored to employ my mind 
on some other subject; but before I was aware, my mind 
had drifted on to the same ground again. This occa¬ 
sioned me some trial, and led me to endeavor to suppress 
every thing of this nature. It was some trial that this 
subject would occur to my mind in my secret devotions 


MEMOIRS OF 


172 

No portions of my time passed more satisfactorily, 
than those which were employed in secret prayer. I 
believe I may say lor weeks, at least I may say for many 
days together, I met with no embarrassment in this im¬ 
portant exercise. 

As I w r rite altogether from memory, (and that I find 
to be very much impaired,) I cannot be so particular as 
I could wish. I soon found trials and perplexities, that 
I never expected; consequently I was not prepared for 
them. I lost that sweet frame of mind, and that ferven¬ 
cy before the throne, which I had not once suspected 
would ever abate. But alas! I found my mistake. I 
iound myself in darkness, and sinking in despondency. 
I had scarcely confidence sufficient to come before the 
throne of grace, and the greatest desire I had to see 
Christians, was to inform them that I was a hypocrite; 
and that so far as they had entertained any favorable 
hopes of me, they were also deceived. In my own judg¬ 
ment, I had made no higher attainment in the Christian 
religion, than a w ay-side or stony-ground hearer; and I 
very much regretted that it was noised abroad that “Sher¬ 
burne was converted.” I seemed, most of all, to regret 
that my Limerick friends were so much deceived; and 
felt myself under special obligation to go and see them, 
for the express purpose of undeceiving them; and actu¬ 
ally set out for that end, with a determination that noth¬ 
ing should divert me from my purpose. 

I went a mile or two out of my w r ay, to see Levi Chad- 
bourn, (supposing that the old elder was at that time in 
Berwick.) I found him at work in his field, and readily 
told him my condition and my business. He observed 
that it was in vain to go to Limerick on such an errand; 
that they w r ould not believe me; that it was noised all 
round the country, and that it was of no consequence to 
try to make people believe otherwise. He thought it 
not strange, however, for young converts to have such 
fears, and that Satan insinuated such things in their 
minds. He prevailed with me to go to the house and 
stay all night, (as it w as near sun down,) and have some 
talk with his father, who had lately returned from Ber¬ 
wick. To this I consented; for however little I thought 
of my own piety, I had a high value for Christians. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


m 


Just as wc reached the house, Wenworth Lord, an¬ 
other Baptist preacher, called there. . lie made but a 
short stop, but took opportunity to talk a little with me; 
he having heard something of my case. He seemed 
anxious to comfort me; and in parting with me, he in a 
very solemn and impressive manner repeated a part of 
the 77th hymn of the 2d book of Watts. 

“Stand up my soul, shake off thy fears, 

And gild the gospel armor on.” 

This seemed to relieve my mind a little; but I was yet 
in great darkness. Levi having given his father some 
account of my situation, after we were seated, the old 
gentleman began to make some inquiries of me why 1 
had made it up in my mind that I was a hypocrite. I told 
him my simple, story, and waited for some reply. The 
old gentleman observed that it was many years since he 
entertained a hope in Christ, and he could not say but 
that he had more than once suspected himself to be a 
hypocrite. ‘‘I have long since concluded,” said he, 
“that hypocrites were very dishonest people, and that 
they wished to deceive. I must therefore confess, An¬ 
drew, that if you are a hypocrite, you are, in my judg¬ 
ment, as honest a hypocrite as I ever saw. 1 ’ 

He then went on to make a number of appropriate re¬ 
marks and observations; such as that the Christian’s 
journey through this world was a warfare, and that it was 
through much tribulation they were to enter the kingdom; 
and that if need be, they should be in heaviness through 
manifold temptations, for the trial of their faith, &c. &c. 
He also recited many of the promises contained in the 
scriptures, for the encouragement of the weak and tempt¬ 
ed. In a word, he was the good Samaritan, pouring in 
oil and wine. After this interview, I indulged a hope 
that I was not a hypocrite in this matter, although I might 
be but a way-side or a stony ground hearer. I was con¬ 
fident I had feigned nothing in this thing. The reader 
will easily discover how dark was my understanding in 
regard to hypocrisy. On the next day, (being the Sab¬ 
bath,) I accompanied Levi Chadbourn to Limerick, 
where he was to preach that day. 

15 * 


174 


MEMOIRS OF 


Without hesitation, I gave my friends a particular ac¬ 
count of what had passed within me. They all appeared 
to sympathize with me, and were forward to encourage 
and strengthen me. 1 tarried all night and most of the 
next day with them. We had a pleasant interview, and 
1 found my mind in some measure relieved from the em¬ 
barrassments under which, for some time, I had been la¬ 
boring; but I never again attained to such an uninter¬ 
rupted joy and consolation, as I at first enjoyed, for sev¬ 
eral weeks together. I diligently improved my time in 
reading, (especially the bible,) attending meetings, and 
conversing with Christian friends. I paid an especial 
attention to preaching; and when meditating alone, would 
frequently, ere I was aware, find myself in imagination 
addressing an assembly. 

It would generally depress my spirits, when I realized 
what my thoughts were upon. Eventually, I discovered 
a strange conflict in my own mind. I sometimes feared 
that 1 should be compelled “to preach to the people,” 
but I felt as incompetent to the task, as one would feel to 
discharge a debt of thousands of dollars with merely a 
small handful of change. At other times, I would secret¬ 
ly wish to be engaged in that delightful employment. 
My impressiens at that time were, that no one could, 
without the utmost presumption, engage in that service, 
unless he had evidence as certain of his being called of 
God, as he had of possessing the sense of seeing or hearing. 

This subject would almost constantly come into my 
mind, when I attempted to pray in secret; and I have of¬ 
ten prayed to God that he would prevent such thoughts. 

I have often suspected that Satan presented them to my 
mind. Whatever spirit it might be that dictated them, 
they were certainly, on these occasions, unwelcome to 
me; but I did not dare to communicate those thoughts 
to any friend whatever. For a time, I thought all my sin¬ 
ful propensities were subdued; but I now discovered my 
mistake, for I was harrassed with the fear of man, and I 
readily discovered that I should not be troubled with this, 
if pride was entirely dislodged from mv heart. 1 discov¬ 
ered by degrees, that l had to contend with all those sins 
under which I had previously been held in bondage. I 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


175 


could, without hesitation say, with the apostle Paul, “ that 
in me (that is in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing;” and 
with the prophet Jeremiah, “that the heart is deceitful 
above all tilings, and desperately wicked.” 1 found that 
if I would live a godly life, I must wrestle against princi¬ 
palities, and powers, and spiritual,wickedness in high pla¬ 
ces. 1 endeavored to watch with care, and pray in sin¬ 
cerity ; and yet, on examination, I found myself remiss 
in those important duties: and yet I could not divest my¬ 
self of impressions about preaching. 1 sometimes re¬ 
gretted that I was so deficient in education;—again I 
would query whether if 1 had an education, I might not 
adventure to go forward without being called of God, as 
was Aaron; for it appeared to me, at that time, that it 
was next to the unpardonable sin for one to engage in 
that office, unless he were absolutely called of God. 

It was about two months after I entertained a hope, 
say about the middle of November, 1789, I experienced 
a most distressing trial. ‘‘An horror of great darkness 
fell upon me.” I was exceedingly dejected, and I very 
much feared that I was altogether deceived in regard to 
my state. I could not compose my mind to read or to 
pray; and for a while I wandered from place to place as 
one half distracted. At length I went into the barn, went 
up on the top of the hay, which was considerably above 
the beam, and in this retired situation I endeavored to 
examine myself. I prayed for the kind interposition of 
the Holy Spirit, to teach me what I was, and what he 
would have me to do; and even in ihisglooomy and rest¬ 
less condition, I had perplexities in my mind respecting 
preaching. I seemed to myself to be one of the most 
inconsistent of all beings; for I was at this time doubtful 
whether I was a Christian. 

Having spent some hours in prayers and tears, with¬ 
out any satisfactory relief, 1 went to the house, and hav¬ 
ing occasion to minute something in my account book, I 
took up my pen, and having written what I intended, there 
being a half sheet of loose paper lying in my book, a 
question arose in my mind whether I could, without hes¬ 
itation, write a verse of poetry. The thought was im¬ 
mediately urged upon my mind whether, if 1 could write 


176 


MEMOIRS OF 


a verse without stopping to reflect, and that the matter 
should be sound and consistent in my own judgment, I 
should take it for an evidence that I was a Christian l — 
but I dared not to pitch upon this mode. I feared that it 
was rather tempting the Lord. 1 thought., however, of 
Gideon’s fleece; and 1 felt almost impatient to make the 
attempt. 

I wrote a verse very readily, and stopped a moment 
to examine it. I thought it consistent and sound, and I 
was pleased that I had not rested the decision of my case 
upon it, as it might be but by accident I had written it. 
I then queried whether I could write another: I pro¬ 
ceeded and wrote until night overtook me. 

At the time to which I refer, a young man who could 
read tolerably well without spelling, (accent, emphasis, 
cadence and punctuation out of the question,) write a le¬ 
gible hand and cypher through the double rule of three, 
was considered as having had a good education; and in¬ 
deed the number thus educated was comparatively small, 
except in the more populous towns and villages. To 
such an education I had also added some knowledge of 
geometry. 

At that time, a knowledge of English grammar w as 
not considered a prerequisite for a teacher of our com¬ 
mon country schools. I had therefore an opportunity of 
being employed in a school at Limerick, in the winter of 
1789—’90. I had then just entered my twenty-fifth 
year. It was peculiarly pleasant to be situated among 
my particular friends in this town. 

About this time Hart’s Hymns were put into my 
hands. One of these hymns, on the subject of pride, 
much excited my attention, and the following lines more 
particularly. 

“ Against its influence pray^; 

It mingles with the prayer; 

Against it preach ; it prompts the speech ; 

He silent, still its there. 

This moment, while I write, 

1 feel its power within, 

My heart it draws to seek applause, 

And mixes all with sin.” 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


177 


I ascertained that great and good men were not alto¬ 
gether tree from pride, in their own estimation. I there- 
lore need not think it strange, it 1 still discovered its re¬ 
mains in my own heart. 

While I was engaged in this school at Limerick, an 
affecting circumstance occurred in the neighborhood. A 
Mrs. Gilpatrick, the wife of Joseph Gilpatrick, Esq. 
went to bed at the usual hour, in health. Some time in 
the night, she awoke, rose up in her bed, and said to her 
husband, u I am dying !” and expired immediately. 

Death in such a country, where the people are com¬ 
paratively few, excites much more general sympathy than 
death in a more populous region. Mrs. G. was ot an 
amiable character, and was much lamented. The la¬ 
mentations of her family and connexions at the funeral, 
were such as do not often occur. 

This circumstance induced me to write a number of 
verses, addressed to Esquire G. and his children. 1 have 
since, on different occasions, written a few verses, but I 
must confess that when I review them, they in general 
appear so defective, and as there is an abundance of good 
poetry in circulation, that my mind sickens at the thought 
of presenting them to the public. I am very confident 
that they cannot afford much gratification to persons of 
refined.taste and education, and yet I am aware that 
there may be a certain class of readers to whom such 
productions would be more acceptable, and probably as 
instructive as the productions of learned and flowery 
writers. ' 

A learned speaker or writer may probably assure him¬ 
self that if his writings or addresses are exhibited in such 
a style as to be fully understood by the more unlearned 
readers or hearers, he will not be as much admired by a 
very large proportion ot the learned. 

It will be granted, I presume, that the number is far too 
small, who, regardless of the applause or flatteries of their 
fellow worms, or their own reputation, are willing to en¬ 
dure frowns and censure for the truth’s sake. We well 
know that man is an aspiring being, and we know also 
that our bounds are set, and that we cannot pass them. 
Whatever, therefore, may have been our attainments in 


178 


MEMOIRS OP 


literature, fame, riches or grace, it will be no injury to us 
to look astern on our wake, and notice what we w ere ten, 
twenty, or forty years ago. 

The apostle Paul, after he had made great acquisi¬ 
tions in wisdom and humility, recollected that when 
he w r as a child, he spake as a child, he understood 
as a ^child, and thought as a child; nor did he for¬ 
get that he had been injurious to the cause of Jesus 
Christ, that he had kept the raiment of those who stoned 
Stephen to death, that he had persecuted the saints in 
every synagogue, and had caused many ol them to blas¬ 
pheme. 

With the apostle, doubtless, those several circum¬ 
stances were so many incentives to humility and self- 
abasement before his God, as long as he lived. 

But I discover that 1 am steering wide from my orig¬ 
inal design. I had at first purposed to say all that I 
should say of my self, in about two’hundred pages, 12mo. 
but 1 have already written considerably more than one 
hundred and fifty pages, and there yet being near forty 
years of my life to narrate, l perceive that I must he 
more concise, or I shall swell my book much beyond my 
first intention. 

To return to my narrative: I should have observed 
that before I commenced my school in Limerick, I 
made a journey to Portsmouth, to see my mother, sisters 
and other relatives. I had seen none of them; nor had 
1 made any communication to them since I had enter¬ 
tained a hope that I was converted. 

I was not yet baptized, but w'as an advocate for im¬ 
mersion. I could fiot but communitate to them the rea¬ 
son of my hope, and I trust with “ meekness and fear.” 
But it seemed to them like an idle tale. Most of them 
were disgusted with my principles. 

I visited the family of my uncle, Samuel Sherburne, 
on the plain which I have before mentioned. I had al¬ 
ways felt a peculiar veneration for this place, which had 
been the residence of so large a number of my ancestors, 
whose remains were deposited in an extensive family 
burying-ground, on my uncle’s land near his house. My 
father’s remains were brought from the town and depos- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


179 


itedhere a few years before, while I was a captive in 
Charleston, S. C. 

Here 1 had a number of cousins, both male and fe¬ 
male, about my age, who had always treated me with 
peculiar affection, and who with profound attention and 
deep sympathy, had formerly heard me narrate the par¬ 
ticulars of my voyages, imprisonments, &c. But at this 
time, I could not join them in that hilarity which had 
heretofore marked our pleasant interviews. It was deep¬ 
ly impressed on me to tell them frankly what a state my 
mind had been in, and what I trusted the Lord had 
done for my souk They sat aghast for a while, but 
when they ascertained that I was in sentiment a Bap¬ 
tist, they seemed to regret that I was inclined to depart 
from the tradition of my fathers. 

In my uncle Furbur’s family, with which I had been 
equally intimate, I metabout the same reception. There 
was not at that time, to my knowledge, a single Baptist 
member in all the town of Portsmouth or any of the ad¬ 
jacent towns; I was therefore a kind of phenomenon 
among my friends and acquaintance. 

I have the happiness, however, to hope that the great¬ 
est past of those families, my own included,) have since 
that time become real Christians; but a large proportion 
of them have gone the way “ from whence no traveller 
returns.” 

A part of my business at Portsmouth was to visit Miss 
Jane Muchamore, to whom I had paid my addresses for 
several years, and should have married her long before 
this time, had it not been for our poverty. Her father, 
Mr. Nathaniel Muchamore, died about the time that 
my father died. He had been in easy circumstances, 
but misfortunes, together with his lingering in consump¬ 
tion a number ofyears, reduced his family to poverty. 

His widow was a pious woman; she was one of 
Whitfield’s conveits. She was a member of the first 
Congregational church, of which Samuel Haven, D. D. 
was at that time pastor. In my previous visits, while I 
was under conviction, I had discovered something of 
my feelings to this good old lady and her daughter; it 
seemed to be highly gratifying to the old lady, but her 


180 


MEMOIRS OF 


daughter, like Gallio, cared for none of these things. 
Rut on this visit I found that Jane was under great anx¬ 
iety of mind; a circumstance, which to her mother and 
myself was very pleasant. 

My brother Samuel, (who had been at work by the 
month, in Cornish,) and myself had resolved to remove 
my mother and the smaller children into the country. 
House rent and fire wood saddled a heavy bill on us and 
kept us poor. We accordingly took her into the coun¬ 
try which was much to our advantage. 

In the spring of the year 1790, after I had finished my 
school in Limerick, and before the spring work com¬ 
menced, I made a circuitous journey to Portsmouth, 
through Epping, Exeter, New Market, and Strotham. 
In several of those towns there had been recent revivals 
of religion; and I was desirous to form some acquain¬ 
tance with the young converts. I had a number of very 
pleasant interviews with babes in Christ, and older pro¬ 
lessors, and found my mind considerably strengthened. 
When I came to Portsmouth, I w r as extremely gratified 
to find there was a revival in that place. It was prin¬ 
cipally confined to the Rev. Joseph Walton’s society; 
his church enjoyed some of the most edifying meetings 
in this place, I had ever realized. 

I crossed the ferry into Kittery, where another revival 
had recently commenced. In this place I spent about 
two days in going from house to house, accompanied by 
young converts who appeared to be zealously engaged 
in their Master’s cause. These were happy clays with 
me. We parted with our feelings much excited, com¬ 
mending each other to God andj the word of his grace. 

As I journeyed homeward, on foot and alone, I re¬ 
viewed the pleasing seasons I had passed, and I was 
much gratified in my interview. 

In June, 1790, I attended the New-Hampshire asso¬ 
ciation. This was the first association I had ever attend¬ 
ed. I had the gratification of hearing the venerable 
Dr. Ilezekiah Smith, whose preaching so much affect¬ 
ed me in Cornish. 

The people in Kittery made application to the associ¬ 
ation for some supply in preaching; and Elder Simon 
Locke was appointed to visit them in August. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


131 


My health was so poor that season, that I could do 
but little work, and I proposed to accompany elder Locke 
to Kittery, and to make a visit to Portsmouth. 

I will now bring to view several subjects which occa¬ 
sioned me much perplexity, viz. baptism, close com¬ 
munion, the Lord’s supper, and preaching. 

I had paid such particular attention to the New Tes¬ 
tament, on the subject of baptism, that I was perfectly 
satisfied that none were proper subjects of this ordi¬ 
nance, but such as believed in Jesus Christ to the sav¬ 
ing of their souls, and were capable of answering a good 
conscience toward God. When I inquired of myself 
why I did not go forward, I many times screened my- 
selfunder a doubt whether I was a real Christian; and 
even when such doubts subsided, yet the cross was so 
great, that it seemed I could not possibly do my duty, 
without some powerful impulse of the mind. But in re¬ 
gard to the manner, there was no question. 

As yet I had not as particularly investigated the sub¬ 
ject of communion as I had that of baptism. I devoted 
myself to the sudy of this subject, and was satisfied that 
it was an ordinance of Christ, which Christians should 
practice. In respect to close communion, although the 
scriptures said nothing expressly on the subject, I could 
not but question whether any had a right to partake of 
the Lord’s supper, until they were immersed. I could 
not conceive that Baptists were the only real Christians, 
as I was fully satisfied that there were Congregational- 
ists who were as really pious, as were the Baptists. 
With other denominations I had no acquaintance. 

With regard to preaching, it was a matter not yet to 
be decided: whether it will ever be decided in time, I 
shall not now undertake to say. 

Having ascertained from elder Locke, the time he 
would start for Kittery, I called on him the day previous 
to his starting, in order to have his company. I had a 
very pleasant interview with him and his amiable con¬ 
sort. 

On the morrow we commenced our journey to Kitte- 
ry Point, where he was to preach on the following day, 
which was the Sabbath. Here we ascertained that 

16 


182 


MEMOIRS OF 


there were a number of candidates for baptism. I left 
him at Kittery Point and took passage to Portsmouth; 
and to my inexpressible joy, I found Miss Jane Mucha- 
more a bright and happy convert. Her mother had 
comparatively renewed her youth, as the eagles. I be¬ 
lieve we enjoyed unsullied Christian communion, but I 
was so much attached to elder Locke and the converts 
at Kittery, that I must spend the Sabbath with them, and 
accordingly I returned to Kittery on Sabbath morning. 
It was concluded to have the ordinance of baptism on 
Monday, and the meeting was appointed at Mr. E. 
Hutchkins’. 

His brother, Mr. S. Hutchkins, was one of the princi¬ 
pal citizens of Portsmouth, and one of Mr. Walton’s so¬ 
ciety. I having returned to Portsmouth on Sabbath ev¬ 
ening, and given notice of the intended meeting on 
Monday, Mr. H. had the politeness to have a boat and 
hands to row it, and take his daughter, Miss Mucha- 
more, who was now a member of Mr. Walton’s church, 
and myself, to Kittery, to attend this meeting. 

While Mr. Locke was preaching, I felt my mind very 
powerfully impressed with the idea, that it was my duty 
to be baptized. The impression was so powerful that I 
was confident I must speak as soon as there was an op¬ 
portunity. 

He had no sooner closed his sermon, than I arose. 
I felt as if I had authority from God to speak unto the 
people. I was much animated, and spoke with the ut¬ 
most ease, for the space of ten or fifteen minutes. I 
then told them what God had graciously done for me 
and offered myself for baptism. 

When I commenced speaking, Miss M. according to 
her own generous confession, felt as she supposed Mi¬ 
chael felt when David danced before the ark. Her feel¬ 
ings were exceedingly wounded because I had not ap¬ 
prised her of my design to be baptized; but indeed I had 
not the remotest thought of it myself, until after Mr. 
Locke had commenced his sermon. 

Before I had done speaking, her prejudice was remov¬ 
ed; and when she saw me baptized, it so affected her 
that she could not stand. Miss Hutchkins, Miss Much- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


183 


amore, and many others in that congregation who had 
never seen the ordinance administered before, after¬ 
wards became Baptists. 

Ha ving returned to P. the next day, we had a visit 
trom father Walton. The good man was quite unrec¬ 
onciled to what had taken place. He told me he be¬ 
lieved I was deceived, and that he expected I would 
deceive Jane also. It may be thought that in our cir¬ 
cumstances, this must be somewhat unpleasant to our 
feelings. 

I seriously gave him the reasons for my conduct. 
He shortly became quite composed, gave us much good 
'instruction, exhorted us to adorn our profession, and 
gave us his blessing. 

I shortly after fell in company with deacon Moses, of 
Mr. Walton’s church. The old gentleman very deli¬ 
cately introduced the same subject: he said he expected 
I would take Jane into the country with me among the 
Baptists, and he intimated that he thought it likely that 
my influence would induce her to become a Baptist also. 
I had before this resolved never to use any influence, di¬ 
rectly or indirectly, to induce her to become a Baptist. 
I told the deacon that this was my determination; that 
I had myself been very much opposed to the Baptists, 
and that no mortal’s influence had ever induced me to 
become a Baptist. 

She shortly after this became my wife, and about five 
years after she voluntarily became a Baptist, and was al¬ 
ways treated with marked attention by Mr. W. and his 
church. 

By this time I had purchased ten acres of good land, 
had about half of it under improvement, and had made 
some provision for building a small house; but my con¬ 
stitution was so enfeebled that I could not perform half 
the labor that other men in general could. For three 
summers in succession, I was laid up for a considerable 
time in consequence of hard labor. I was also consid¬ 
erably in debt. Discouraging as these circumstances 
were, my spirits in general were good; for contrasting 
my condition with what it had before been, while gather 
ing muscles on the muscle banks in Charleston,—steer 


184 


MEMOIRS OF 


ing my little bark on a lee shore, on the coast of New¬ 
foundland, in a violent gale of wind—my perilous condi¬ 
tion among the breakers on the shore of Cape St. Mary’s, 
See. I saw that 1 had abundant reason to be thankful. 

I had a firm footing on the peaceful shores of indepen¬ 
dence and liberty, located in the midst of a friendly and 
pious society, enjoying the confidence and possessing 
the suffrages of my townsmen, and above all entertan- 
ing a hope of eternal life through the merits of the Sav¬ 
ior. -Yet while in the body, industry, enterprise, perse¬ 
verance and economy are requisite, in order that we 
may be useful to ourselves and one another. 

I finally succeeded in getting my mother and little 
sisters under my own roof, covered with slabs. Our 
meetings were holden in private houses; my doors were 
opened, and it was my privilege to have preaching in 
my house the first Sabbath day after we moved into it. 
My mind had been some time tried in reference to fam¬ 
ily worship, for my mother was not at that time a pro¬ 
fessor of religion. I however commenced the exercise, 
and the trial subsided. 

I kept house with my mother several months before 
I moved my wife home. By this time I had formed some 
acquaintance in the adjacent towns, and as the 
Baptists of that age and region, were much in 
the habit of “ assembling themselves together,” and 

speaking often one to another,” I enjoyed many 
precious opportunities at their fire sides, though gener¬ 
ally in log cabins. Many of them, however, were more 
comfortable than my unfinished frame building 

There were some difficulties however, when they call¬ 
ed on me to stay over night. My mother had but two 
beds, and my wife but one. She had bedding, however, 
sufficient for two, and we had a spare straw hed, which 
we in cold weather, placed before a good fire, and our 
guest would find himself perfectly accommodated. If 
among our guests there were females, I could cheerfully 
stretch myself on a straw bed, by the fire, and reflect 
how much more comfortably situated I was than when 
lying on the cold deck of the old Jersey, or in the filthy 
bupks of her hospital ships. 


ANDREW SHERBORNE. 


185 


I cannot easily express how much satisfaction I deriv¬ 
ed from such company. 1 was exceedingly fond of hav¬ 
ing preachers call on me, though desirous to be in cir¬ 
cumstances to aflbrd them better accommodations. 

I much wished to set up an ashery, as there was none 
very near me, and potash was in pretty good demand at 
that time; but I had no capital to commence with. Jo- 
siah Pearce, Esq. of Flintstown, (now Baldwin) a half 
brother to the celebrated Count Rumford, was at that 
time doing considerable business in the mercantile line. 
He supplied me with goods; he was to be at half the ex¬ 
pense of the building, &.c. and was to share the profits 
with me. We had the misfortune to break a number of 
kettles, and make some bad debts. My circumstances 
were such that I became a considerable debtor myself. 

After a number of years, I having made acquaintance 
in Portland, in consequence of a reformation taking 
place there,obtained goods on my own credit. I believe 
I continued in this business nearly ten years, until I com¬ 
menced preaching in the year 1801. As I have no doc¬ 
uments to assist my memory, I shall as concisely as is 
practicable, bring up my history to the date last men¬ 
tioned. 

My uncle Weymouth was one of the most influential 
men in the place. He was always in my opinion partial 
towards me, manifested great sympathy towards me in 
consequence of my ill health, and seemed more disposed 
to use his influence for my promotion to office in the 
plantation or town, than to sustain those offices himself. 
While the place was yet a plantation by the name of 
Francisboro’, there was a military company organized,, 
and my uncle was chosen captain. I never possessed 
much military taste after I went to sea, but to gratify 
him, I accepted the station of first sergeant and clerk of 
the company. This was the highest my military promo¬ 
tion ever reached; and this office I got rid of as soon as 
circumstances would admit; for after having the offices 
of town clerk and one of the select men conferred on me, 
I was exempt from military duty. Indeed my uncle had 
no military taste, he accepted the captaincy rather from 
necessity than from choice, and resigned as soon as he 
could,. 16* 


186 


MEMOIRS OF 


With proper reflections we may see that a gracious 
and wise Providence often causes much good to grow 
out of an evil. Had I not been drawn or carried through 
the distressing scenes which I have already related, and 
been lodged in Old Mill prison, I had probably never ac¬ 
quired an education sufficient to have sustained those 
offices, and to have performed the business which has 
proved so profitable to me. 

I am inclined to think that there is not one instance in 
a hundred, if there is one in ten thousand, in which after 
a lad arrives to the age of seventeen, entirely without a 
knowledge of the arts of writing and arithmetic, he ever 
attains to those arts. 

I will notice a circumstance which eventually operated 
much in my favor. The county of York was the oldest 
county in Maine, and at the time I first went into the 
country, it extended probably eighty miles from the sea 
into the country. The court house and jail were in the 
extreme southwest angle of the county, in the town of 
Old York, within a mile of the sea. and about nine miles 
from Portsmouth, N. H. To the south west of a right 
line from York to Portsmouth, is a triangular piece of 
land, extending southerly, (including a part of York and 
a part of Kittery) ten or fifteen miles, bounded on the 
west by the Piscataqua river, and on the east by that 
part of the ocean called Wells’ Bay. 

As the country was increasing rapidly in population, 
and the public buildings were decaying, it was foreseen 
that public buildings must shortly be erected either in 
York or some other place. 

A considerable number of the most influential persons 
in the county addressed a circular to the several towns, 
inviting them to appoint delegates to meet at Berwick, 
to take into consideration the interest of the county in 
regard to the public buildings. The town of Cornish 
appointed me as their delegate, but restricted me with 
respect to the county site. Most of the large towns 
sent three or four delegates; a number of other towns as 
well as Cornish, restricted the power of their represen¬ 
tatives in their instructions. 

When convened, there were probably sixty in number, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


187 


including a considerable number of the most respectable 
civil and military officers in the county. General John 
Frost, late of the revolutionary army, was called to the 
chair, and Daniel Sewall, Ksq. clerk of the county court, 
was appointed Secretary. 

I presume I was the youngest person in the company, 
and an entire stranger to almost every one present, and 
being sensible of my want of experience and talents, I 
resolved that my communications should be restricted to 
“ yea, yea, nay, nay.” 

It was natural to suppose that the delegates from 
York and its vicinity, would do all they could to keep 
the courts at York, but it was soon discovered that we 
had a party also for Kennebunk, another for Bruns¬ 
wick, a fourth for Alfred, and a fifth for Waterborough. 
Moreover some of the members being restricted, as has 
been already mentioned, it was easy to see that nothing 
could be done at present, to give any thing like general 
satisfaction. 

It was an object, however, for the several parties to 
sound each others’ intentions. Some gentlemen endeav¬ 
ored to mature the business, while others were for pro¬ 
crastinating every proposal which was made. A Mr. N. 
who had been an officer in the army, and more recently 
a member of the Legislature, was extremely loquacious. 
He frequently contended that this or the other measure 
was u unparliamentary .” I was sufficiently vexed at 
this gentleman’s criticisms and sophistry, and was very 
anxious that some one more capable than myself should 
make some reply to his quibbles. 

To me it appeared, that there had been much time al¬ 
ready wasted, and feeling an especial responsibility to my 
constituents, and a wish to secure their confidence, and 
being wearied with Mr. N’s. long and continued speech¬ 
es, I thought I would make an attempt to bring our dis¬ 
cussions to a close. 

I therefore arose and addressed the chair, observing 
to the President, that to me it appeared we were not at¬ 
tending strictly to the business for which we had been 
convened, that I came there with the impression that 
our only business was (if we could agree,) to fix upon a 


188 


MEMOIRS OF 


suitable site for our county buildings. That the thought 
had never entered my mind that any part of our business 
was to decide upon “ parliamentary” measures; I thought 
vve had been sufficiently oppressed by such measures, 
and did not feel any great degree of deference towards 
them, and as we had become independent of them, it 
was to be lamented, if we could not transact the business 
then before us, without spending so much time in listen¬ 
ing to the gentleman who last spoke, in learning what 
was or what was not “ parliamentary;” but that inas¬ 
much as in my instructions from my constituents I was 
restricted, and this being the case with a number of oth¬ 
er members, I thought it was requisite that we should 
dissolve or adjourn to some future period. 

These observations eventually led to a resolution to 
address a circular to the inhabitants, and to adjourn to 
the same place. The zeal and decision manifested in 
making the foregoing observations, excited the attention 
of the members generally, and some more especially, as 
I shall have occasion to mention hereafter. 

I am aware that by this time the reader will be inclin¬ 
ed to conclude that the writer has paid himself a com^ 
pliment. 1 readily acknowledge that it is not always 
prudent, or perhaps safe, for a person to speak or write 
his own feats or performances, but according tp Frank¬ 
lin, it is a peculiar trait in the character of old men. As 
the writer has gone far down the declivity of life, he 
would request his readers to admit this circumstance as 
his apology. I venture to say that it is rather difficult 
for one who writes a narrative of himself, when he re¬ 
views the great variety of circumstances which have at¬ 
tended him in the space of forty or fifty years, if he pos¬ 
sesses but a moderate degree of sensibility, to avoid say¬ 
ing more of himself than is strictly compatible with his 
own feelings, and he will most probably appear, at least* 
in some degree, as an egotist, in, the view of others. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


189 


CHAPTER IX. 

Engages to survey a toicnship—First son horn — Narrow¬ 
ly escapes drowning in Mad river—Lotted out the town¬ 
ship of Success in N. H.—He is Agent for the Bap¬ 
tists in - Liming ton—Becomes acquainted with l)r. 
Baldwin—Baptist petition not granted—Baptists and 
others succeed in obtaining relief — A/anne r of carry¬ 
ing on meetings —j Reformation in Portland—Trials 
about Preaching. 

To return to my narrative: The acquaintance which 
I formed with the principal persons of the county, through 
the medium of this convention, occasioned my appoint¬ 
ment by an order of the court, to survey several tracts of 
land, the titles of which were in dispute in the county 
courts; I w r as also appointed an agent of one of the prin¬ 
cipal proprietors of the town. 

All these circumstances I viewed as so many acts of 
divine Providence, in my favor; as my constitution was 
so impaired that I could perform but little manual labor, 
the emoluments arising from those little offices, in some 
measure supplied that defect. 

My brother and myself found it to our advantage in re¬ 
moving my mother and sisters from Portsmouth to the 
country. After a few years, the girls were able to sup¬ 
port themselves; we were nevertheless embarrassed in 
our circumstances. 

We found it difficult to raise money to pay for our 
land. I had yet several sisters in Portsmouth, one was 
married. My mother became discontented, as aged peo¬ 
ple generally are when removed to a strange place. 

I was therefore under the necessity of providing a 
horse and taking her to Portsmouth. At the time, I 
thought this a hardship; but a kind Providence overruled 
it very much to my advantage; it being at a season of the 
year when our work in the country demanded attention. 
I then did not calculate to make a visit of more than a 
day or two at the most. 

I happened to fall in company with Mr. Joseph Akar- 


190 


MEMOIRS OF 


man, a respectable citizen of Portsmouth, with whom I 
had but little acquaintance. This gentleman seemed to 
feel himself much interested in my welfare, was inquisi¬ 
tive to know how I employed myself in the country, See. 
Amongst other employments, 1 mentioned that occasion¬ 
ally I had a job of surveying. Mr. A. observed to me 
that he was a proprietor in a township of land in the inte¬ 
rior of the State, (viz. N. H.) that the proprietors must 
shortly have it laid out in lots, and that Col. S. Sher¬ 
burne, Capt. I. Salter, and himself, were a committee ap¬ 
pointed by the proprietors for this purpose. He thought 
I had better call on those gentlemen, observing, that if 
they were agreed, he should be willing that I should 
have the job. In short, I agreed with them to lay out 
the township called Success, into one hundred acre lots. 
This township lies twenty miles north of the White Hills, 
and is bounded on the east by the State of Maine. This 
was a serious undertaking for me, but there was no time 
to be lost. 

It was expedient that I should make a journey of sixty 
or seventy miles into the town of Shelburn on the An¬ 
droscoggin river, and laying directly south of Success, to 
procure provisions and make preparation for commen¬ 
cing the business. On the 12th September, 1795, my 
first son was born: he was named John Elliot. 

As soon as 1 could conveniently leave my family, I 
commenced the journey. In ascending the Androscog¬ 
gin, on the south side, I forded a number of streams which 
fell into the river. The last day’s journey was generally 
through a dreary wilderness; and the road, if it deserved 
the name, was exceedingly bad. In Shelburn there 
were but few inhabitants:—Moses Ingalls, Esq. and 
Fletcher Ingalls, his brother, were the principal men of 
the place. From both of those gentlemen I received many 
signal favors. Their father, an aged and eminent saint, 
lived with Fletcher. Having made the necessary ar¬ 
rangements with the Messrs. Ingalls’, I set out for home; 
but in crossing Mad river , I narrowly escaped with my 
life. This river is sixty or eighty yards wide; its bed is 
entirely composed of round smooth stones, of different 
sizes, from two to six or eight inches in diameter. When 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


191 


I crossed this river a few days before, the water near each 
shore was about a foot deep, but several rods in the mid¬ 
dle was entirely bare. There had been a heavy rain 
while I was at Shelburn, but my friends thought there 
would be no danger in crossing. On my return the bed 
of the river was wholly covered. The water was nearly 
four feet deep at the sides, and about two in the middle, 
and so extremely rapid as to move the stones on the bot¬ 
tom. I had nearly crossed the first channel, when my 
horse, although active and strong, stumbled and fell. I 
had taken the precaution to release my feet from the stir¬ 
rups before I entered the water. I was thrown a little 
forward of my horse into shallower water, and by grap¬ 
pling to his head, 1 soon recovered my feet. The horse 
was unable to rise until I got foothold, among the stones 
and held its head up stream; it then, without difficulty, 
recovered its feet. 

1 then proceeded to the middle of the stream, where, as 
I before observed, the water was shallowest; and having 
halted a little to rest, l concluded to take my chance with 
my horse, on my own feet. As I approached the eas¬ 
tern shore, the water deepened; but I braced myself 
against the horse, who seemed to have improved from his 
misfortune, and taking more slow and firm steps, reach¬ 
ed the eastern shore without further difficulty. Thus 
was I once more graciously preserved from a watery 
grave. Having ascended the bank of the river, 1 turned 
and took a view of the rapid stream, and thought the 
name given to it was very appropriate. Casting my eye 
a little to the right, the noble Androscoggin, with its ma¬ 
jestic impetuosity, presented itself to my view, and caus¬ 
ed my very soul to shudder in view of the danger I had 
escaped. This was the first instance of imminent dan¬ 
der 1 had realized since I left the sea; and I could not, 
with but gratitude, adore that gracious God whose merci¬ 
ful providence had been so often exercised to save me 
from the grasp of death. 

On my return home, I found my family well, and I im¬ 
mediately engaged my brother Samuel for an axe man, 
Mr. B. JEstes and Mr. J. Wormwood for chainmen, and 
repaired to the wilderness and commenced my survey. 


192 


MEMOIRS Of 


Mr. Ingalls conducted us to the southeast corner of Suc¬ 
cess, which was also the northeast corner of Shelburn, 
and about six miles distance from his house. He was 
the nearest inhabitant to the south, and there were none 
on the north nearer than Canada. Our work daily car¬ 
ried us farther from the inhabitants. 

It was our practice, at night, to fall a suitable tree, 
against which to build a fire, and prepare a sufficient 
quantity of fuel. At a proper distance from our fire, we 
stuck down two forked stakes, ten or twelve feet apart, 
placed a stout pole into these stakes, and then fixed a 
number of smaller ones on the first. The top ends ran 
back from the fire, and laid on the ground. On these 
we would place a quantity of hemlock brush, and lay a 
quantity of the same on the ground for our bed; resting 
on this brush, with our feet to a good fire, and covering 
ourselves with blankets, we generally slept comfortably. 

Our business was very fatiguing; it being so late in 
the season that the streams were considerably swollen, 
and the swamps quite wet. We had also to endure sev¬ 
eral storms of rain, and one of snow, which fell six inches 
deep. This did not all disappear until the third or fourth 
day after. When we accomplished our business, we 
were nearly twenty miles from Esq. Ingalls’. 

It was a very dark day, and we were each of us entire¬ 
ly willing to retire from this gloomy wilderness. We 
commenced our retreat early in the forenoon. It rain¬ 
ed all day, and we were each of us heavily loaded with 
our camp equipage. We had entirely expended our 
provisions, and had but a scanty breakfast that morning. 
When night overtook us, we were within about five miles 
of Mr. Ingalls’, on the weather side of a mountain. It 
was quite rainy, with a high wind, and we could no lon¬ 
ger find our way by our spotted trees. For a while we 
got along slowly, by feeling the spots. One person 
would stand by a spotted tree, while another person 
would find a second, another a third, and so on. At 
length we concluded to strike up a fire, but every thing 
was so wet that it was very difficult. We happened to 
find some birch bark, and made a torch by which we 
traced the spotted line, until we descended from the 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


193 


mountain to pine jand. We then lost our course, but 
obtaining an abundance of excellent pitchwood, we 
made our way by conjecture, for some time. At length 
we became apprehensive that we were not pursuing the 
proper route. On setting my compass, I found that we 
were travelling nearly a north course, when we wished 
to go south. 

I then sent two of the men forward with torches, keep¬ 
ing them in range oi each other; and kept the other to 
light me, while I should occasionally set the compass. 
Though we advanced slowly, this was preferable to lay* 
ing on the weather side of the mountain, in the 
rain. At length we heard the barking of dogs, (by no 
means an unpleasant sound,) and we shortly lound our 
way to our friend Ingalls’ house. It was about mid¬ 
night; the barking of the dogs, and our approaching the 
house with several large torches, not a little alarmed 
the family. The Esquire and his lady arose and paid 
us every possible attention. Although Mrs. Ingalls was 
not in health at that time, she insisted on waiting on us 
herself. I can never forget their affectionate attention. 

We were extremely tired and hungry; it was there¬ 
fore necessary that we should rest a day or two, before 
we should pursue our journey homeward. In due lime, 
we took an affectionate leave of these agreeable fami¬ 
lies, nor have I seen any member of them since. On 
our arrival at home, we had the satisfaction to find all 
well. It became necessary to make a plan and a return 
to my employers. They expressed entire satisfaction, 
and honorably paid me. After paying off all my bills, I 
found I had made about two dollars per day, for each 
day I had spent, including all my journeying on the oc¬ 
casion. I could not but view this circumstance as a 
special act of Divine Providence in my favor. 

At this period, the state of religion, as well as litera¬ 
ture, was very different from what it is now. When the 
reformation, which I have before mentioned, took place 
in Cornish, in 1787, there was nothing like a reformation 
heard of in any part of the country, to my knowledge; 
but in a few years after, reformations became quite com¬ 
mon in many parts pf our land. The reformation which 
17 



194 


memoirs of 


commenced in Cornish, spread into the adjacent towns 
of Limington, Limerick, Hiram, Baldwin and Parson- 
field, and several other towns. But there was neither a 
Congregational nor Presbyterian preacher in either of 
those towns, or in any other town within fifteen or twenty 
miles of the place. The Congregationalists (for there 
were no Presbyterians or Methodists in that section of 
Country at that time,) seemed rather indifferent towards 
the reformation, oi perhaps it may be as proper to say, 
rather opposed. 

Several years after the reformation in Cornish, a Con¬ 
gregational minister was settled in the adjoining town of 
Limington, where a number of the members of the Bap¬ 
tist church of Cornish resided. There was also a con¬ 
siderable number of persons residing in Limington who 
were Baptists in sentiment, and attended meeting in Cor¬ 
nish, but they were all, without exception, taxed to the 
support of the Congregational minister in Limington. 
This circumstance occasioned unpleasant feelings, and a 
remonstrance against such proceedings; but it was to no 
purpose. The Baptists, however, refused to pay the tax, 
and when the year came about, the constable distrained 
from them their property, and sold it at vendue, to pay 
the ministerial taxes. This circumstance occasioned 
great uneasiness in the town; and some of those who 
were thus used, being acquainted with Judge Thatcher, 
of Gorham, made application to him for counsel, and pro¬ 
cured him to draw a petition to the general court of Mas¬ 
sachusetts in their favor. (Maine at that time was un¬ 
der the Massachusetts government.) He was formerly a 
Congregational preacher himself, but was possessed of 
more candor than some others. There were about thirty 
persons who signed the petition; the prayer of which was 
to obtain an act of incorporation as a Baptist society. 
They saw fit to employ me to present the petition. A 
few years prior to this, there had been a Baptist church 
constituted in Frysbury, in the county of York, twenty 
miles to the north of Cornish. This church had recently 
been taxed by the Congregationalists. 

In Massachusetts Proper, about the year 1795, and 
several years prior thereto, the Baptist churches in Barn- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


19 : 


stable and Harwich were grievously oppressed by the 
Congregationalists. This induced the Warren Associa¬ 
tion, to which the Baptist churches in Boston belonged, 
to appoint a committee to give counsel to the Baptist 
brethren or churches, who might be oppressed by taxa¬ 
tion:—Mr., afterwards Dr. Baldwin, was one of this 
committee. 

On my arrival at Boston, in behalf of my Limington 
friends, about the year 1799, I in the first place called 
on Mr. Baldwin, (having a letter of introduction from 
elder Wm. Bachelder,) whom 1 found to be one of the most 
friendly and obliging persons I have ever met with. He 
readily gave me all the assistance that lay in his power. 
He introduced me to deacon Titcomb, of Newburyport, 
and to Gen. Salem Town. Both of these gentlemen be¬ 
longed to the Senate, and were on the committee for in¬ 
corporations. He also introduced me to a number of 
other gentlemen of the house. I presented the petition, 
vhich was read in both houses, and committed to the 
committee for incorporations. After I arrived in Boston, 
I ascertained that Judge Fry, of Frysbury, who at that 
time was a senator from the county of York, was em¬ 
ployed the select-men of Limington to oppose the pe¬ 
tition which had been committed care; and I knew 

that he was unfriendly to the Baptists. 

By this time the Methodists began to increase in Mas¬ 
sachusetts. I found a gentleman attending the general 
court, with a petition to defend a Methodist society:— 
however we might differ in our religious tenets, our in¬ 
terest was one and the same, in regard to an incorpora¬ 
tion. 

[ have the impression that there had been a bill before 
the house several years before, the object of which was 
to place the several religious denominations upon an 
equal footing; and I found that our applications for incor¬ 
porations were the means of reviving that bill. After 
about two weeks, I had an opportunity of being heard 
by the committee for incorporations. I merely stated 
the matters of fact in regard to the petitioners, and plead 
tor their constitutional rights. Judge Fry also appear¬ 
ed, and with great vehemence, declaimed against an in* 



106 


MEMOIRS OF 


dividual, of the petitioners, who was not a church mem¬ 
ber, however, of whom he had heard an ill report; and 
represented the petitioners as a faction, who were oppo¬ 
sed to all wholesome government, &.c. and that their ob¬ 
ject was only to get rid of paying ministerial taxes. I 
observed to the gentlemen of the committee, (which con¬ 
sisted of two members from the Senate and three from the 
house, that the thought had never entered my mind that 
his honor would have taken such ground. I presumed 
that he had no personal acquaintance with any one of 
the petitioners; but that I was personally acquainted with 
the greatest part of them, and knew a number of them to 
be members of the Baptist church in Cornish. That 
whatever defects there might be in the moral characters 
of the honorable gentleman’s employers, (and 1 was con¬ 
fident that they were not all without them,) we had on¬ 
ly to complain of their unjustly and unconstitutionally 
taking away, and sacrificing our property, and pray for 
protection. 

The committee did not report in favor of the petition¬ 
ers, because they were confident that the general bill 
would* pass. I believe they recommended the passing 
said bill as a substitute. I have the impression that the 
bd’ passed the Senate, nut am not confident. But I was 
afterwards informed by Dr. Baldwin, that, in the House 
of Representatives, the yeas and nays were equally divi¬ 
ded upon the bill, and that the Speaker, (who, 1 think, was 
Mr. Timothy Bigelow,) gave his vote against the bill. 
I cannot say whether Deacon Titcomb was a Congrega- 
tionalist or a Presbyterian; he was, however, a gentleman 
of unquestionable piety; and was willing that the Baptists 
and other dissenters (from the standing order, so called,) 
should enjoy equal privileges with himself. Gen. Town 
was equally liberal. They did not think it necessary for 
me to tarry longer, as they had no doubt that the bill 
would pass. I was also informed by Dr. Baldwin, that 
the Deacon very ably supported the bill in the Senate:— 
he referred to me, as the agent of a society, who had 
spent several weeks endeavoring to obtain an act of in¬ 
corporation; and he was satisfied that the petitioners 
ought to be relieved; and the only reason which induced 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


197 


the committee not to report in favor of an act of incorpo¬ 
ration, was because they had the expectation that the 
bill would pass. 

While in Boston I had a conference with Judge Wells, 
who was the other Senator lrom, ; the county of York: he 
agreed with me that the petitioners were oppressed. I 
urged him, that in case the petition did not succeed, that 
he would use his influence with the select-men of Lim- 
ington not to tax the Baptists. I had no doubt he would 
succeed. Whether he interfered, I cannot now say; but 
I believe they were no longer taxed. In a few years af¬ 
ter this, there was a Baptist Church constituted in Lim- 
ington, and they built a meeting-house and settled a min¬ 
ister. 

In other places, however, the Congregationalists con¬ 
tinued to tax other denominations. This occasioned 
many perplexing and vexatious law suits. In Falmouth, 
in the district of Maine, in the year 1810, the Univer- 
salists were engaged in a law suit with the Congregaticn- 
alists, for the purpose of* recovering money that had been 
taken from them by the latter. The decision of the Su¬ 
preme Court, in which the late Judge Parsons, Chief Jus¬ 
tice of the State presided, was, “ That no society, except 
those which were incorporated by law, could be entitled 
to this privilege;” viz. of drawing back their money again. 
Immediately upon the news of this decision, a circular 
address, signed in behalf of others, by Dr. Baldwin of 
Boston, Mr. Williams of Beverly, and Mr. Bolles of 
Salem, was distributed through the State,* together with 
a petition, the subtsance of the prayer of which was the 
general bill before mentioned. In the June session of 
1811 , about thirty thousand citizens, many of whom w r ere 
Congregationalists, preferred their petition for this gen¬ 
eral bill. Eventually, relief was obtained; nor have I 
heard of any oppression since. 

Mr. John Chadbourn, who commenced preaching in 
the time of the reformation, at Cornish, continued to 
preach there a considerable part of the time for several 
years: he then moved to Bethel, on the Androscoggin 

* See Benedict’s History of the Baptists, vol. I. pp. 447, 448, ani 
toI. II. pp. 432, 433, &c. 


198 


MEMOIRS OF 


river, where he continued about a year. The reforma¬ 
tion had subsided, and the church seemed to decline. 
We, however, continued out meetings, and had occa¬ 
sional preaching. Mr. Ebenezer P. Kinsman, from Wa- 
terborough, who was afterwards ordained Pastor of the 
Baptist church in Limerick, supplied us part of the time. 

Mr. Chadbourn having returned from Bethel, was ot- 
dained, but not particularly to the pastoral care of that 
church; he however continued to preach there some 
time, and then went, to Limington. 

We were again u as sheep without a shepherd.” Mr. 
Isaac Thompson and myself served the church as Dea¬ 
cons at that time, and with several other brethren, en¬ 
tered into an especial agreement to continue our meeting; 
but we had many trials to endure. The church was in a 
low cold state, and there were some divisions among us 
in regard to doctrine. Mr. Timothy Barnes was a “ chief 
man among the brethren;”—he used occasionally to 
speak in public, but he moved to Penobscot. Mr. Joseph 
Smith, one of the most celebrated singers and teachers of 
music in New-England, a Baptist brother, came from 
Epping into the place with his family. He was after¬ 
wards appointed a Deacon in the church, and also be¬ 
came a preacher. Mr. Joseph Allen had a very edifying 
gift in exhortation. The three last mentioned brethren 
have long since been deposited in the silent grave. 

Our manner of carrying on a meeting, was to sing a 
hvmn or psalm, join in prayer, and then read a chapter 
of the Scriptures, and any one who was disposed, made 
observations from it. Occasionally we had an exhorta¬ 
tion, and when it came from deacon Thompson or broth¬ 
er Allen, it was both animated and animating. Mr. .Noah 
Jewett, of the Congregational church in Durham, N. H, 
purchased one of the best estates in the town, and with 
a large family moved in. 

About this time the Free-will Baptists and Methodists 
seemed disposed to occupy the ground, as we had no 
preacher, and made a practice of holding their meetings 
within call of ours; but there were, however, a consid¬ 
erable number who were not disposed to hear them. The 
Methodists succeeded in forming a small class, but it was 
dissolved in less than a year. 


ANDREW SHERBONE, 


199 


Mr, Je wett, for a while, seemed inclined to take the 
back ground; I believe, however, that his heart was as 
much with us as a Pasdo-Baptist’s could be; and notwith¬ 
standing our close communion, as it is called, he was 
soon led to discover that he had as much freedom in ex¬ 
ercising his gifts among us, as though he had been with 
his own brethren ; for we freely invited him to take an 
active part in our meetings, and felt the advantages of his 
assistance. After a while, I felt inclined to bring him 
into a conversation with me upon baptism, but he used 
the same kind of policy with me that the celebrated John 
Newton did with Dr. Thomas Scott. At length I frank¬ 
ly invited him to a conference upon the subject. He re¬ 
marked to me, that it was a question with him whether I 
should produce any argument in favor of my principles 
which he had not heard, and that for himself, he had no 
expectation that he should produce any in his favor that I 
had not heard, nor did he suppose we should either of us 
derive any benefit from a talk on the subject. As he was 
therefore not disposed to hoist his colors or run out his 
guns, I was by no means inclined to fire into him, as a 
sailor would say. I wished that I had not introduced 
the subject; but he afterwards became a Baptist, and 
was appointed a Deacon in the church, and became one 
of her principal supporters. I will in this place narrate a 
particular circumstance which occurred with us, the date 
of which I do not now particularly remember. 

On a thanksgiving day, we had had a meeting, although 
we had no minister. It was the general practice in New 
England for the young people to assemble in companies, 
on thanksgiving evenings, for dancing, but I believe it 
never was a practice in Cornish. I believe, however, 
that they visited in small parties for recreation; this was 
practised also by the heads of families. 

At the meeting on that day, I invited my brethren 
Jewett, Allen, Thompson, and Ranlet,to spend the even¬ 
ing at my house. They all attended, and we passed the 
ovening in a sociable and friendly manner until past nine 
o’clock. When my guests were about to retire, I ob¬ 
served to them that it would be a privilege to have one of 
them pray with us before we parted:—all was silence for 


200 


MEMOIRS OF 


a minute or two. I observed that I had no choice, and 
that I would gladly join with any one of them; but finally 
they all declined. I then endeavored to urge it upon 
one and another, but all to no purpose, and they each of 
them urged it upon me; but as I was in my own house, 
it seemed remote from common practice for me to at¬ 
tempt the performance. My conscience upbraided me, 
because l had not introduced the subject of religion in 
our evening’s conversation. 

Each of these brethren had a similar confession to 
make. My wife’s mind had been burdened all the even¬ 
ing, in consequence of our omission, but she thought it 
not her place to introduce the subject. I could not en¬ 
dure the thought of their leaving me without praying. 
I therefore urged them again and again, but to no pur¬ 
pose. 

Eventually, there was no alternative;—I must myself 
attempt to pray.* I therefore commenced under a dis¬ 
tressing trial of mind, and I prayed under the necessity 
of praying, after I had, with deep compunction of soul, 
confessed my delinquency. I had no sooner closed than 
another commenced, and he had no sooner ceased to 
speak vocally to the great I AM, than a third engaged; 
and finally we all prayed—we all wept—we all rejoiced. 
We then all sat down as in an heavenly place, and spent 
an hour as Christians ought to spend their time when 
together. The next day we were desirous to know each 
other’s state of mind. We communicated to others how 
it had been with us;—a happy revival ensued, and a re¬ 
formation commenced, in which a number were added 
to the church. 

About this time there was a reformation in Portland, 
as I have before mentioned. It commenced with a few 
persons who were not satisfied with the stated preaching! 
in the town. They were Messrs. Benjamin Titcomb, 
Thomas Beck, and Nathaniel Cross. They established 

* Having since visited Cornish, and conversed with some of my 
old friends, I am inclined to think that Mr. Jewett first engaged 
in prayer. 

t This was before the excellent Payson settled in Portland. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


201 


meetings in their houses for a while, but generally at Mr. 
Titcorab’s. He afterwards became an acceptable and 
profitable Baptist preacher. Mn Beck was afterwards 
one of the deacons of the Baptist church in that place, 
but Mr. Cross never became a Baptist; he however be¬ 
came a very active member of a Congregational church, 
in which he had the happiness of seeing an extensive re¬ 
formation. 1 lived about thirty miles from Portland, but 
my business often called me there, and 1 became inti¬ 
mately acquainted with the three above named brethren. 

I always called upon them when I went into the town, 
and sometimes spent a Sabbath with them. They were 
soon after joined by Benjamin llsley, since a deacon in 
the church; Mark Harris, who has since been a mem¬ 
ber of the Senate of Massachusetts and also a represen¬ 
tative to Congress; William Beckett, a Baptist brother 
from London, long since deceased; Ansel Lewis, and a 
number of others: finally, they have become a large and 
respectable church, and have now for their pastor 3Ir. 
Thomas B. Ripley, from Boston. Mr. Titcomb is the 
pastor of a large and flourishing church in Brunswick, 
Me. 

Until after deacon Smith and deacon Jewett joined 
our meeting in Cornish, I was placed in very trying cir¬ 
cumstances; for if mv brethren knew of my design to 
be absent on the Sabbath, they would not meet togeth¬ 
er. We seemed inclined to lean on each other, and 
whether they leaned more on me than I did on them, I 
cannot say. 

There were but three or four of us that took an ac¬ 
tive part in our meetings. There was a certain kind of 
backwoods modesty about us, which induced us respect¬ 
ively to put each other forward, rather than to go forward 
ourselves. It was frequently the case with me, that 
when I read a chapter, there was some particular te\t 
in it which lay with considerable weight on my mind. I 
commonly made some general observations on the 
chapter, but could not wefl avoid some particular explan¬ 
ations on that particular text that lay on my mind. I 
was careful to avoid everything that had the appearance 
of preaching. 


202 


MEMOIRS OF 


Individuals of cur own, and of other churches, had 
from time to time given it as their opinion, that Sher¬ 
burne would be a preacher: and some had even urged 
it upon me. I dare not say that I did not secretly wish 
to be a preacher, but I was disposed to hold myself at an 
awful distance from that sacred office. I felt as if it 
was next to the unpardonable sin for a creature to at¬ 
tempt that employment, if God had not absolutely call¬ 
ed him to the work; and I also indulged the idea, that it 
God called a creature to that employment, he would 
give him as demonstrative evidence of it as he had of 
the existence of Deity. And I also ardently wished 
that if I should become a preacher, I might be a good 
and a great one. But considering the inferiority of my 
abilities and education, it appeared to be out of the 
question, that I should become a real minister of Christ. 
Such thoughts and impressions revolved in my mind for 
ten years before I attempted to preach, during which 
time I was a constant attendant on preaching, whenever 
I had opportunity, and was an attentive hearer, and a 
critical observer. I sometimes thought 1 discovered in 
some young preachers a degree of affectation, and an 
inclination tc imitate the manners of such preachers as 
were celebrated speakers. This extremely hurt my 
feelings. I had read and prayerfully studied the script¬ 
ures for more than twelve years, and felt no more com¬ 
petent to determine whether God had called me to preach 
than when the subject first exercised my thoughts; and 
yet I could not possibly disengage my mind from the 
subject. 

About the year 1800, I spent a Sabbath with my good 
friends in Portland, who by this time had increased to a 
considerable number, and had hired a school-house iti 
Union-street, in which a decent congregation assembled. 

Mr. Titcomb led the meeting, but I think he did not 
preach. His speaking powerfully affected my mind, 
and I felt as if I must speak when he closed. I madtf 
the attempt, and 1 felt as if I was assisted by the Holy 
Spirit. I had great freedom, and had the attention of 
the people, and spake to them fifteen or twenty minutes, 
to the particular satisfaction of my Christian friends 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


203 


When I reflected on what had passed, I concluded that 
if I at that time had spoken under the influence of the 
Holy Spirit, that I had very many times grieved 
that Spirit, by declining to obey his dictates. 

When I returned home, my feelings were very much 
tried from the circumstance that my brethren had had 
no meeting on the preceding Sabbath. And it was no 
small trial to me, when I reflected in what manner I had 
spoken in Portland, when I had never undertaken to 
speak in that manner in my own church. Although I 
had often felt as if I must unavoidably speak unto them 
the words of this life, yet 1 withheld, either in conse¬ 
quence of its being so great a cross, or for fear I should 
run when the Lord had not sent me. 1 do not know 
that I felt any condemnation for speaking in Portland, 
for I believe I may say that I could not hold my peace. 




CHAPTER X. 

Commences preaching, in 1801— Visits Boston—Death 
of his sister—Preaches in Boston , in Salem and many 
other places—In 1802 preaches in Philipsburg — 
The venerable Deacon Chase — E. Ilight , Esq .— 
Preaches at Arundel—Removes to Arundel — Reform .- 
ation—Teaches school — Ordained—Takes the census 
in six towns—Distressing sickness—His wife out of 
health—Her life despaired of—Her happy state of 
mind—Her death. 

Our meetings were carried on in Cornish, as usual; 
the free-will brethren occasionally settingup “ their post 
by our post.” On the fourth Sabbath in May, 1 SO I, as 
I was on the way to our school-house where we held our 
meetings, I met several going to the other meeting and I 
was almost determined to turn back myself, from the 
impression that there would be none at the school-house; 
I however went foward, and to my astonishment found 


204 


MEMOIRS OF 


a larger congregation than usually met there, when there 
was no preacher. The books were passed from one 
brother to another, and finally were presented to me. I 
opened the meeting in our usual manner, and having 
read the second chapter of the epistle to the Colossians, 

1 informed the audience that it was my design to confine 
mv observations to the sixth and seventh verses. I had 
great freedom in giving my views of t( receiving Christ 
Jesus the Lord;” the reasonableness, the propriety, and 
the necessity, of walking in his commandments and ordi¬ 
nances, in order to a “ growth in grace, and abounding 
therein with thanksgiving.” Having delivered my 
message, I felt a peculiar calmness of mind. 

It was soon noised abroad, and in the adjacent towns, 
that Sherburne had commenced preaching. For some 
time I enjoyed a happy state of mind. Immediately upon 
this, deacon Joseph Smith, before mentioned, commenc¬ 
ed preaching, to great acceptance. Our congregation 
increased:—the free-will brethren gave up their meeting; 
—the Methodist class was dissolved, and a reformation 
again commenced. 

I was much attached to Mr. John Watson, formerly a 
sailor, and Mr. Asa Osgood, an old revolutionist, both 
living in Brownfield, seven miles north of Cornish. 
They both being members of the church with me, urged 
me to preach in their neighborhood; and I having par¬ 
ticular acquaintance in Limerick, Limington, Baldwin, 
Portland, and a number of other towns, was invited to 
preach in those places: and as deacon Smith was preach¬ 
ing in Cornish, to the satisfaction of the church, I was 
at liberty to be absent, and comply with the wishes 
of my friends abroad. 

I had anticipated severe trials, if I were to preach, 
but my mind was generally tranquil. I generally had 
freedom in speaking, and took great satisfaction in read¬ 
ing and studying the scriptures. But my trading con¬ 
cerns were embarrassments to my mind, and I was re¬ 
solved to wind up that business as soon as possible. I 
found myself indebted to Esq. Pierce, and others in Port¬ 
land, about four hundred dollars, and the property I then 
held was worth about nine hundred dollars. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


205 


In March, 1802, Mr. John Coffin, and others, employ¬ 
ed me to transact some business for them in Glocester, 
on Cape Ann. Having accomplished my business, and 
being so near Boston, I resolved to visit two of my sis¬ 
ters then residing in Boston. When I was there in the 
year of 1799, I had three sisters there at service; as 
wages were much higher in Boston than in Portsmouth. 
They had been recommended by ladies in Portsmouth, 
to other ladies of their acquaintance in Boston. Eliza¬ 
beth and Mary lived at a Mr. Boardman’s, on Fort Hill, 
and Susan lived several years at Dr. Jarvar’s, but was 
now married to Capt. Peter Kenedy, who kept a board¬ 
ing-house. Mary was married to a Mr. Kelly, about a 
year before, and shortly after died. I arrived in Bos¬ 
ton about six o’clock, P. M. and first called on my good 
friend, Mr. Ja’s. Newhall, with whom I boarded in 1799. 
Mrs. N. enquired whether I had been sent for; I in¬ 
formed her I was not. “Then,” said she, “you did not 
know that your friends were in trouble.” I informed 
her I did not, and requested to know what was the mat¬ 
ter. She replied, “ your sister Elizabeth died this 
morning at five o’clock.” 

I had never heard of her illness, as she had been sick 
but a few days. I unexpectedly found my mother in 
Boston. She had been living with my brother George, 
on the Penobscot river, and went to Boston in a coaster, 
with him, a few weeks before, to see her children. I call¬ 
ed on my good friend Baldwin, who attended the funeral. 

This sister was the only relative I had ever followed 
to the grave, except one cousin. As I drew near to Bos¬ 
ton, my mind was deeply employed in contemplating on 
the subject of mortality, and anticipating the scenes of 
sorrow and of joy, in which I expected shortly to be em¬ 
ployed with my dear surviving sisters; little thinking that 
the first information from the first acquaintance I should 
meet, would be the death of one of them. “Be ye also 
ready.” While in Boston, Mr. Baldwin would have me 
preach in his vestry, which I did, but it put me to a hard 
trial to preach to Bostonians. On my return home, I 
preached at Salem, Beverly, Windham, Hampton Falls 
and Exeter. 


18 


206 


MEMOIRS OF 


In the summer of 1802,1 preached frequently at Phil- 
ipsburg, (now Hollis,) on Saco river, about ten miles 
from the sea. On the second Sabbath in which I preach¬ 
ed in this town, which was the thirteenth of June 1802,1 
first became acquainted with the venerable deacon Chase, 
of the Congregational church in Saco. He was here on 
a visit at Elisha Hight’s, Esq. His lady was the deacon’s 
grand daughter. Before public worship began in the 
morning, Col. Lane, of Buxton, called on me; with a re¬ 
quest that I would attend the funeral of a Mr. Abner 
Chase, late of Litchfield, in New-Hampshire. Col. Lane 
and others, had employed this active and enterprising 
young man, as the master workman of a bridge which they 
were constructing across Saco river, between Buxton and 
Hollis. He was unfortunately drowned in Saco river, 
on the twenty-first of May. Great exertions were used 
to recover the body, but it was not found until the twelfth 
or thirteenth of June, when it arose and floated ashore 
in Hollis, a few miles below Esq. Hight’s. 

It was expedient that the corpse should be deposited in 
a coffin, and even in the grave, as soon as possible; but 
before the grave was covered, a large assembly of the 
citizens of Buxton and Hollis formed a procession at a 
house not far distant, and marched round the grave, and 
then attended public worship in an orchard. The de¬ 
ceased was a distant relation of the deacon’s, who was 
the only relative to attend on the solemn occasion. The 
deacon w T as then about ninety years of age. As Col. 
Lane arranged the procession, it was his request that 
the deacon and myself should walk together to the grave. 
It was my wish to have walked at the left hand of such a 
venerable character, and I took that position, but before 
I was aware of it, he reversed the order, and insisted 
upon my walking at his right hand, and I was constrained 
to submit. 

From that time, the deacon became quite attached to 
me; and it was no small consolation to me, to enjoy the 
friendship and attachment of such eminent Christians as 
elder Chadbourn, before mentioned, and old deacon 
Chase. It would be difficult for me to say which of those 
excellent and aged Christians I most highly esteemed. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


207 


Eider Chadbourn had departed this life, however, be¬ 
fore I became acquainted with deacon Chase. I believe 
I have before mentioned that elder Chadbourn had two 
sons who were Baptist preachers. Deacon Chase had 
two sons who were members of the Baptist church in Lim- 
ington, viz. Amos and Abner; the former of whom is a 
deacon. I believe he is yet living, and think he must 
be more than seventy years of age. 

After I settled in Arundel, (now called Kennebunk 
Port,) deacon Chase used occasionally to come to our 
meeting; and after they had built a new meeting-house 
at Saco, he invited me to preach in the old one, which I 
did several times. When he was ninety-five , I had been 
preaching at said meeting-house, and we stood talking 
together after the assembly had all dispersed, and when 
we took our leave of each other, the deacon mounted his 
horse from the ground, with as much alacrity as I could 
have done. The good man lived until he had almost ac¬ 
complished his hundredth year. But few men have lived 
more universally respected. I believe that at the age of 
ninety, it could scarcely be perceived, by his acquain¬ 
tance, that his mental powers had, in any considerable 
degree, depreciated. “ The memory of the just is bless¬ 
ed.” Proverbs, x. 7. 

I continued to preach at Hollis once a month, until 
October, 1802. They were supplied also a part of the 
time, by a Mr. Timothy Holdson, a young man ofhand- 
some talents, and a decent education, who commenced 
preaching that summer, and was afterwards settled in the 
ministry in that town. I shall have occasion to say some¬ 
thing more of this excellent man hereafter. 

While I preached in Hollis, I became very intimate m 
the families of Esquire Hight and Mr. Daniel Stone. 
Those two families were friendly to me, and I generally 
put up with one or the other of them, and felt myself per¬ 
fectly at home. None of them were public professors of 
religion at that time, but Mrs. Stone was a person of un¬ 
questionable piety. I visited her some years after this, 
while on her dying bed, and found her possessed of an 
unshaken hope in Christ. 

I cannot well refrain from saying a few words of Esq. 
Hight, who many years since left a numerous and inter- 




208 


MEMOIRS OF 


esting family to mourn his untimely death. I must con¬ 
fess that of all men with whom I have been acquainted, 1 
have never found his superior in attention to risitors. He 
appeared to take the utmost pleasure in accommodating 
them. Some fifteen or twenty years since, this gentle¬ 
man had a gang of hands employed in clearing a piece of 
excellent new land, on a farm several miles from his 
house. There was a certain root which attracted his at¬ 
tention; he tasted it, and observing that it had a pleasant 
taste, he offered some of it to his workmen. One or two 
of them tasted it, but did not swallow it; but he was so 
imprudent as to swallow it freely. They directly after 
went to the house to procure drink:—they sat but a few 
minutes, when he complained that he felt quite unwell. 
He was advised to lay down on the bed, which he did, 
and the men went to their work. The woman of the 
house knew that he was very fond of coffee, and said she 
would make some strong coffee, and thought he would 
feel better. She went to the well to procure water, and 
when she returned, she found him off the bed, and strug¬ 
gling on the floor. She called to the men, who immedi¬ 
ately i" put hirr? on the bed again; 
so convulsed that it was difficult to keep him on the bed. 
He expired in less than half an hour. The reader can 
better judge, than I can express, what must have been 
the distress of an affectionate wife and eight or ten fond 
children, on the reception of such distressing tidings. 
It was thought that the root of which this gentleman so 
incautiously partook, was the wild parsnip. 

I have known several instances in which persons have 
lost their lives by eating this poisonous root. An in¬ 
stance occurred in this vicinity, in which a young lad died 
in consequence of eating this root, as was supposed. In 
giving this account, it is one object of the writer to put 
his readers on their guard, and to.induce parents to warn 
their children against this deadly poison. 

On the first Sabbath in October, 1802, by request., 1 
preached in the new meeting-house in Arundel, (now 
called Kennebunk Port.) This was in the neighborhood 
of elder S. Locke, who occasionally preached in the same 
b^use, which had been built a levy years before, chiefly 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


209 


by the Congregntionalists; for there was no Baptist 
church or society in the town. The Ivennebunk river, 
on the west of this town, divided it from W ells. It was 
bounded on the east by Biddeford, and on the south by 
the ocean. It included Cape Porpoise, (which was its 
original name,) and extended eight miles into the coun¬ 
try, to the town of Lyman, on the north. At the port 
there is a handsome and populous village. The old Con¬ 
gregational meeting-house, in which the Rev. Silas 
Moody preached at that time, stood within a mile of the 
Port; consequently some of the inhabitants had to travel 
six miles to meeting. The new meeting-house was erec¬ 
ted with a design to have Mr. Moody preach in it a 
stipulated part of the time, but as the voters at and about 
the Port, could out vote those who were interested in the 
new house, they could never get a vote of the town for 
Mr. Moody to preach there. He preached to them, 
however, one Sabbath, and several other Congregational 
ministers being invited, preached a day each to them. 
Being unable to settle a Congregationalist, they suf- 
tered the Baptists to preach in it. 

Mr. T imothy Reinick, a licentiate from the Baptist 
church in Parsonfield, had preached there several Sab¬ 
baths, and there was a prospect of a reformation. Mr. 
Rernick was soon called to take the pastoral charge of 
the church in Cornish, where I believe he continues to 
this day. 

By request, I preached to them again in Arundct, on 
the second sabbath in November. 1 spoke twice at the 
meeting-house; I then attended a funeral, and had a lec¬ 
ture in the evening; and had several other meetings in 
the town before I returned home. Early in December, 
a committee from Arundel visited me, and informed me 
that the proprietors of the meeting-house had had a meet¬ 
ing, and unanimously voted to consider themselves, and 
be considered, as a Baptist society; and also to invite 
me to come and settle with them. 

With regard to emoluments, they would give me the 
amount of the ministerial tax which they had usually 
paid to Mr. Moody, which was about sixty dollars. One 
half of the interest of the money for which the town par- 
18 * 



210 


MEMOIRS OF 


sonage had recently been sold, which they supposed to 
be about forty dollars; and I might also have the oppor¬ 
tunity of teaching their district school. I w as by no 
means critical with them in regard to a stipend, for our 
fathers of the preceding generation, had considered it 
almost a crime for a preacher to have a salary settled 
upon him: and some of them seemed inclined to denounce 
all such as hirelings, who took any thing for preaching, 
by u'ay of a tax. Dissenters from Congregationalisms 
had been so much oppressed, and so frequently impris¬ 
oned, in consequence of ministerial taxes, that they de¬ 
tested the idea of supporting a minister by a tax. 1 be¬ 
lieve, however, they had no objection to a minister’s re¬ 
ceiving a free-will offering. 

I did not hesitate to comply with their request. It 
seemed enough for me that they wished for my services. 
They had provided a house for me to live in, and would 
provide hay for my horse and cow, and a sufficiency of 
fire wood, and would move me down from the country, 
(about thirty miles,) without any expense to myself. As 
I had a year’s provision on hand, 1 was not uneasy re¬ 
specting my subsistence. 

Towards the last of January, 180&, I moved from 
Cornish to Arundel and took up my quarters for the time 
with Mr. John Tarbox; and found myself pleasantly sit¬ 
uated in an interesting family and neighborhood. There 
were frequent conversions, and a harmonious society. 
In June following, there was a Baptist church constitut¬ 
ed, consisting of thirteen members; the greatest part of 
whom had been members of elder Locke’s church, in 
Lyman. On the 18th of July 180-3, we had the addition 
of seven to our ltttle church, viz. Nath’iel Walker, and 
Betsey, his wife; Nathaniel Cuvier, and Hannah, his 
wife; Charles Smith; Paulina Tarbox, the wife of Mr. 
John Tarbox, my host; and Miss Eunice Ford. I 
preached on the occasion from Gen. xxiv, 58, “ And she 
said I will go” They were baptized by elder Locke. 
The church being thus organized and enlarged, they 
gave me a call to ordination. The society concurring 
with the measures of the church, they united in giving 
me full liberty to send to as many churches as I pleased, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


211 


for a council to be convened at our meeting-house, on 
the 27th ot September. Letters were therefore address¬ 
ed to eleven churches, whose delegates met according 
to request, and on the 23th 1 was ordained, at the close 
of my thirty-eighth year. Mr. Moody was invited to at¬ 
tend the council and ordination, but he declined. He 
manifested very unfriendly feelings towards the Baptists 
and towards the reformation. 1 never knew or heard of 
any such thing as a prayer meeting or a conference meet¬ 
ing in his church or society, whiie he lived. 

1 held meetings at private houses, in different parts of 
the town, and was frequently called to attend funerals in 
and about the village. Mr. Moody did not approve of 
my being called, or of my attending on those occasions. 
He thought me an intruder if I went into the lower part 
of the town to solemnize a marriage, attend a funeral, or 
to hold any religious meeting. The reformation extend¬ 
ed to all parts of the town, and the novelty of the thing 
seemed to incline many persons to go and see and hear for 
themselves. This, however, was attended with some 
difficulty, for they had reason to fear that if they should 
indulge their inclinations, it might injure the feelings of 
some of their good friends. On funeral occasions, how¬ 
ever, almost all seemed to be at liberty to attend. There 
had recently been a small Baptist church constituted in 
the north part of Wells, of which elder Joshua Roberts 
was the pastor. There was a reformation in this church 
also as well as in elder Locke’s in Lyman. Occasional¬ 
ly others, with myself, preached and baptized in the 
Rev. Mr. Fletcher’s parish, in Wells. He was as lit¬ 
tle inclined to favor the reformation as was Mr. Moody. 

Our society manifested an anxiety in assisting me to 
a settlement. Thomas Durrell, Esq. and Col. John 
Mitchell, were the most opulent and influential members 
of our society. The latter had been a fellow sufferer 
with me on board the Jersey prison-ship. Durrell hav¬ 
ing recently built an elegant house, gave me his old one, 
which, with some repairs, made a decent and comforta¬ 
ble house; and Col. Mitchell gave me an acre of land on 
which to set it. The other members of the society were 
equally generous, according to their abilities, but by far 
the greater part of the society were hard pressed to sup- 


212 


MEMOIRS OF 


port their families. We had some addition to our num¬ 
bers from the lower part of the town, but this circum¬ 
stance occasioned unpleasant feelings. 

The leading characters of our society thought that we 
had a just right to an equal proportion of the interest of 
the parsonage money, as it was originally given for the 
use of the ministry, without a designation of any partic¬ 
ular denomination. I was therefore advised to apply 
to Mr. Moody, to see if he would relinquish to me a 
part of said money, and accordingly I did, but he refused. 

We not being an incorporated society, it was a ques¬ 
tion whether we could make a legal claim. It was there¬ 
fore concluded to make application to the general court 
for an act of incorporation. A petition being prepared, 
1 was once more sent to Boston in behalf of the Baptist 
denomination; and I had much better success than I had 
seven years before, when I went in behalf of my oppres¬ 
sed brethren in Limington. 

[ had also an opportunity of renewing my acquaint¬ 
ance with the excellent Baldwin; but I found the dear 
man ard his family in an afflicted condition. His on¬ 
ly son, about twenty years of age, lay at the point of 
death. He had been indisposed but a few days, and ex¬ 
pired the next day after my arrival, which was Satur¬ 
day; of course be lay a corpse over the Sabbath. Dr. 
Stillman made it his business to see that Mr. Baldwin’s 
pulpit was supplied. The Doctor preached for Mr. 
Baldwin in the morning; it fell to me to preach tor him 
in the afternoon, and the venerable Mr. Grafton, from 
Newton, preached in the evening. 

The alley or gate-way which led from the street to 
Mr. Baldwin’s meeting-house, passed directly by a back 
door of the bouse in which he dwelt. Alter the morning 
service, a large number probably an hundred of the mem¬ 
bers of his church, entered this door, to express their 
deep sympathy with their beloved pastor. It was truly 
an affecting scene to see the good man sitting like a pa¬ 
triarch, with sorrow, meekness and resignation depict¬ 
ed on his manly countenance, while the members of his 
church, the females in particular, pressing by him, ex¬ 
tending the trembling hand, and weeping, oassed out 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


213 


the front door; while this man of God occasionally ut¬ 
tered some appropriate text of scripture or expressed his 
gratitude for their regard to him and his afflicted family. 

Much as I had witnessed of sickness, death, blood 
and carnage, and while scarcely feeling “ one soft affec¬ 
tion move,” on this occasion I could not but drop a sym* 
pathizing tear. 

Thomas Perkins, Esq. who had formerly expressed 
his disapprobation of the incorporation of Baptist socie¬ 
ties, was at this time the representative from Arundel. 
This gentleman had become more friendly to the Bap¬ 
tists. He met me in the state-house and proffered his 
services in favor of my petition. 

The honorable John YY'oodman, of Buxton, was at 
that time a member of the Senate. He was in senti¬ 
ment a Baptist, and to him I left the care of my petition. 
I found matters to be in such a train in the general 
court, that I was not at all solicitous about the success 
of our petition. I made but a short stop in Boston, and 
soon after my return, Dr. Baldwin forwarded to me the 
act of incorporation, dated June 24.. 1806. 

Aly friend Durrell being **<*•!»««/ of the peace 

at that time, issued a warrant to Col. John re¬ 

questing him to call a meeting of the society on the fif¬ 
teenth day of September, for the purpose of choosing 
the necessary officers, &c. 

The society met at the meeting-house at the time ap¬ 
pointed, and called on me to pray with them; and after 
choosing their officers, they voted to raise one hundred 
dollars as a salary for me, for the ensuing year. This 
sum was assessed and collected like an ordinary tax, and 
paid to me. 

At the expiration of the year they voted to raise the 
same sum for the next. But when the embargo was 
laid in the year 1808, it much embarrassed the commu¬ 
nity in general, in our region, and it became difficult tor 
a number of our society to pay the taxes. This diffi¬ 
culty continued from year to year, until the commence¬ 
ment of the war. 

Anterior to this I had sold my property in Cornish for 
nine hundred dollars, and had discharged my debts; and 


214 


MEMOIRS OF 


had also purchased a lot adjoining my place of residence, 
containing between thirty and forty acres, and having in¬ 
curred some necessary expenses for buildings, &lc. I 
was again rather involved in debt, but was not straitened; 
for I had the good fortune to form a friendly acquain¬ 
tance with Captain Wm. Fairfield, who obliged me with 
the loan of a sufficient sum of money with what I had on 
hand, to make out the payment for my land. There 
were individuals in the society who gave me more than, 
double the amount of their taxes, but there were others 
who were more unable to pay than I was to do without 
it. There were also individuals of the Congregational 
society who bestowed many favors upon me. 

I have often with astonishment reviewed the kind in¬ 
terpositions of the gracious providence of God in rescu¬ 
ing me from dangers, and providing for my necessities, 
and I have reason to be more astonished at my own in¬ 
gratitude in view of the many distinguished mercies God 
has graciously bestowed upon me. 

In the year 1810, as I was walking the street in Saco, 
I observed that Dr. Thorntan had a new office, which I 
had never betorc noticed. It occurred to my mind, thhfc 
twelve rr fifteen years before, while we attended the 
county convention, which I have before mentioned, the 
doctor gave me a pressing invitation to call on him. We 
did not see each other frequently, but he always renew¬ 
ed his request whenever we met. 

At that time he was a practitioner in physic and a 
member of the Legislature; but now’ he w r as marshal of 
the District of Maine. 

I was resolved at this time to give the doctor a call; 
and accordingly I stepped into his office, where I found 
him alone. He gave me a cordial reception, but was 
inclined gently to rebuke me for not calling on him be¬ 
fore. I could defend myself only by observing to him, 
that I had often invited him to call on me, but that he 
bad never called. He observed that he had sometimes 
passed my house, but that it was when he was on busi¬ 
ness that would not allow of his stopping. He thought 
as I was frequently in the village, I might occasionally 
give him a call; he should be happy to see me at any 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


215 


time. We passed half an hour quite agreeably. It was 
early in the day and I had some business that called my 
attention, but he insisted that I should dine with him that 
day. I returned and took dinner with the doctor. In 
conversation he observed that it appeared to him, that 
the people in the vicinity of my meeting-house, were gen¬ 
erally in indigent circumstances. He, in his familiar 
way inquired what I received for a subsistance among 
them; observing by the way, that he had thought of of¬ 
fering me some business, if it would be agreeable to me 
to engage in it. I inquired what it was? He replied 
that he had recently received orders to take the census 
of the district, and that if I was disposed to take a pait 
of it, he would give me a district as large as I wished to 
take. I replied that I did not know whether it would 
comport with my calling. ‘‘I think,” said he, ‘‘you 
need not indulge any scruples on that account, for Mr. 
E. (a Congregational preacher) has made application to 
a friend, to procure a district for him. There have been 
fifteen or twenty applications made to me already, but I 
have not as yet committed myself to any one; but this 
much I will say, Mr. Sherburne, if you will take a dis¬ 
trict I will give you one as large as you think you can 
take.’’ I replied that I would think of the matter, and 
give him an answer in a few days. 

I consulted some of my best friends on the subject, 
particularly deacon James Tarbox, one of my most con¬ 
fidential friends, Col. Mitchell, esquire Durrell, and oth¬ 
ers. I found none opposed to my undertaking. Previously 
to my calliug on the marshal, I had not indulged the re¬ 
motest thought of applying for, or of being requested to 
engage in this business. I therefore considered it as a 
gracious display of divine providence towards me. The 
Lord knew my wants, and he also knew that my people 
were unable to supply them. 

I shortly after called on the Marshal again, and in¬ 
formed him that I had concluded to accept his offer, and 
he assigned me the towns of Kittery, Elliot, York, Wells, 
Arundel and Biddeford. Those towns included all the 
territory on the sea coast, between the Piscataqua river 
on the west, and Saco river on the east; a distance from 


216 


MEMOIRS OF 


thirty to forty miles, and extending eight or ten miles in¬ 
to the country, probably including three hundred square 
miles, and sixteen or seventeen thousand inhabitants; 
averaging from fifty to sixty on a square mile. 

In addition to the census, government had directed 
that the assistant marshal should also take an account of 
the several manufacturing establishments in their sever¬ 
al divisions, together with the quality and value of the 
articles manufactured annually. This business was to 
commence on the first Monday in August, and to be 
completed in five months. 

1 had to explore a large field, and introduce myself to 
a variety of characters, and to interrogate persons res¬ 
pecting the different members of their family, and the 
kind and quantity of articles which were manufactured 
by them. 

In order to carry the laws into execution, it became 
necessary to put at least a dozen questions, and some¬ 
times thirty or more. I soon perceived that it was nec¬ 
essary for me to proceed with the utmost caution, and 
introduce my business with all the prudence of which I 
was master. 

A large proportion of the people were unfriendly to 
the administration, many of them seemed to have forgot¬ 
ten, or never known that there had ever been a census 
taken before. There were not a few, however, who 
had paid so much attention to their bibles, as to have 
ascertained that David numbered the children of Israel, 
and thereby incurred the displeasure of God and brought 
a heavy judgment upon the nation. 

In many instances when I entered a house and cau¬ 
tiously made known my business, before I could ask a 
question and obtain an answer, I was under the neces¬ 
sity of answering half a dozen questions. il What do 
you want to number the people for?” was a question 
frequently asked in the remote parts of towns and along 
the sea-shore. It would have been rude in me not to 
have taken some notice of their questions. I would 
sometimes tell them that the constitution of the United 
States required that the people should be numbered 
once in ten years; I would sometimes tell them that it 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


217 


was the law of the land. They would sometimes reply 
in tj?e following language. “ Why, can’t our rulers find 
nothing else to do, but to make such foolish and wicked 
laws?” 

On an evening towards the going down of the sun, I 
was coasting down a beautiful little creek which made 
out of the Piscataqua river, thickly lined with small 
houses on each side. 1 called at a small house, standing 
twenty feet from the margin of the creek, and probably 
twenty feet above its surface. The old lady was busy 
near the end door, from which a flight of stairs led down 
to the creek. 

The old gentleman had just arrived from the ocean 
with a fare of fish, a business which he had probably fol¬ 
lowed more than fifty years. He seemed quite decrep- 
id, deaf, and sat in his canoe, heaving out his fishes. I 
modestly informed the good old lady what my business 
was. “ Numbering the people!” exclaimed the good 
woman, “ what do you want to number the people for? 
do you want to bring the judgments of God upon the 
land? don’t you know what David did? I don’t believe 
’tis right,” turning to the old gentleman and raising her 
voice, u do you father?” “ What is it?” said the old 
man. {t Why, here is a man taking the number of the 
people, and I don’t believe ’tis right, do you father?” 
tc Relieve,” said he, u I don’t believe nothing about it; 
I know it artt right /” 

In this case, as well as in many others, I had to make 
the best of it. I was obliged to luff and bear away, as 
circumstances required. In visiting two or three thou¬ 
sand families, without selection or exception, there is 
something to be learned. A person of sensibility and 
penetration, possessing the power of description, in pas¬ 
sing through such a scene, might present an instructive 
picture to the inquisitive and observing; but for myself, 
I must get along with my simple narrative without any 
such exhibitions. 

Anterior to this, I had supposed that the more igno¬ 
rant and wretched part of community was to be found in 
the back woods, but when I came to travel over and 
around the mountains in old York, well known to sailor* 

19 


218 


MEMOIRS OF 


by the name of Agamentaeus, and to visit from house to 
house about Kittery Point, Cape Neddock, and Cape 
Porpoise, I formed a different opinion. A large propor¬ 
tion of the inhabitants of this region, get their living 
principally by fishing, and within a few years previous to 
this, there had been a great destruction among the fish¬ 
ermen. In one storm, there were probably from twen- 
ty to thirty women left widows, and probably more than 
a hundred children left fatherless, in the town of Kit- 
terv. I recollect calling on one poor old widow, who 
was surrounded by four or five little ragged grand chil¬ 
dren; one of their parents was dead and the other had 
deserted them; but I cannot now remember whether it 
was the father or mother. 

The old lady having told me her pitiful story, asked 
me if I would give her a little money to buy the children 
some bread. I never had so many applications made to 
me for alms, before or since, as while I was in this ser¬ 
vice; and as I never was without change in my pocket, 
I never felt myself at liberty to refuse, nor did I conclude 
that the few dollars l disposed of in this way, were lost. 
I considered it, as Dr. Scott termed his charities, “ seed 
corn;” though I had the mortification afterwards to learn 
that some of it went for rum. 

In the new back country, although they sometimes 
have but little preaching, and that in private houses or 
barns, yet the people in general make it their practice 
to attend, let their apparel be what it may. But in those 
towns on the sea coast, there are many persons who 
probably do not go into a meeting-house once in seven 
years. 

One cause for this is, that a large portion of commu¬ 
nity who attend meetings, dress so much better than the 
poor, that they are ashamed to go. They are suspicious 
that the rich and gay will look down on them with con¬ 
tempt. They will sometimes, in vindication of the prac¬ 
tice, argue that they u have a bible and other good 
books, and they think they can get as much good by 
reading as they can by going to meeting.” But I am 
inclined to think that in general when people become 
habituated to absent themselves from meeting, that they 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


219 


shortly become habituated to neglect their u bible and 
other good books.” 

I was occasionally requested to visit the sick, and in 
some instances those who were near the borders of eter¬ 
nity, through intemperance. 

I realized but little inconvenience in regard to preach¬ 
ing. My pulpit was constantly supplied, either by my¬ 
self, or through an exchange with some brother; and as 
I was not employed by the day, I could occasionally 
gratify my friends by giving a lecture. I had never been 
in the habit of confining myself exclusively to study; my 
circumstances would not admit of it. It was rarely the 
case, however, that I spoke from a text without some 
previous reflections. 

It was common for me to arrange my subjects while 
riding or walking alone, or while engaged in some other 
business, sometimes tl in wakeful hours by night.” I 
have, however, sometimes spoken from the impulse of 
the present moment, and found as much liberty in speak¬ 
ing as when I had most attentively studied and arranged 
my subjects. But I have never found myself so much 
embarrassed for something to say, and that according to 
truth, too, as I have to find in myself those internal and 
external qualifications which Paul has declared neces¬ 
sary for a minister of the gospel. 

In November, an afflicting circumstance occurred in 
my society. Mr. Luther Walker, (whose father was a 
member of our church, and a neighbor to me,) returned 
from the West Indies, very sick of a contagious fever. 
He was too ill to be taken home to his father’s house, 
five or six miles distance, and was conveyed to Mr. An¬ 
drew Walker’s, his uncle, who lived near the Port. He 
was here confined, extremely ill a part of the time, for a 
week or two; but at length so far recovered as to be con¬ 
veyed home. JVIr. A. Walker’s wife, and Jane, his el¬ 
dest daughter, were members of our church. 

About the time that Luther was taken away, Jane be¬ 
gan to complain; Mary and Susan, the two next, were 
also attacked with the same disease; and shortly after, 
Palmer, Sophia, Lydia, Joseph, and Anna were confin¬ 
ed, and last of all, Mrs. Walker herself. Mr. W. and 


220 


MEMOIRS 0-F 


Andrew the youngest son, only escaped this distressing 
fever. 

In about a week or ten days, Jane died, strong in the 
faith. She was one of the most devoted and exemplary 
young persons I was ever acquainted with fshe was about 
twenty. Mary, about eighteen, and Joseph, about eight, 
were in a few days after laid by the side of Jane. The 
others recovered, and a young widow also, who took the 
same fever in the family. The neighbors were so much 
alarmed, that they were afraid to go to the house. It 
was a fortunate circumstance that Mr. Walker himself, 
was not sick. Dr. Langdon, their physician, was inde¬ 
fatigable in his attention, and sat up with them many 
nights. In the course of their sickness, I w T atched with 
them seventeen nights, and several gentlemen from the 
Port, especially Messrs. John and Samuel Davis, were 
particularly attentive. 

This calamity retarded me in my business, and I was 
liable to a heavy fine, if I failed to make out my return 
in due season. But Mr. W. was one of my most inti¬ 
mate friends, and he was desirous that I should pay all 
the attention I possibly could to his family, and told me 
that if I was fined, he w r ould pay it himself. I however, 
succeeded, and made out my return in season, to the en¬ 
tire satisfaction of the marshal. From the avails of this 
service, I was enabled to discharge some of my debts, 
and to procure some necessaries that we could not well 
do without. Thus God, in his abounding mercy towards 
me, graciously supplied my wants, so that I had a com¬ 
fortable living, and myself and family could make a re¬ 
spectable appearance. 

For thirteen or fourteen years, I taught the school of 
the district, in which I resided, three or four months in 
a year; and at length had the gratification of seeing some 
of my earliest female scholars, lead their little ones to 
my school. 

In the year 1807, I was, by Governor Sullivan, com¬ 
missioned as the chaplain of the sixth regiment in the 
first brigade and sixth division of the militia of the com¬ 
monwealth of Massachusetts. This office I sustained 
nine or ten years, little suspecting, however, when I ac- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


OOJ 


cepted the appointment, that I should ever be called to 
any other services than a regimental review: but in this 
I was mistaken, for after the war commenced, in 1812, 
there were ten thousand, if my memory is correct, of the 
militia of the commonwealth, detached to defend the 
coast, &.c. The major and several companies, with my¬ 
self, were detached from our regiment, to be stationed at 
Ivittery point for the defence of Portsmouth harbor :— 
but when Governor Strong was elected, he countermand¬ 
ed those orders, so that we never took that station. We 
had something, however, to attend to nearer home; for 
the enemy committed depredations on our coast, within 
a few miles of us, more than once. Our regiment was 
once called out to defend our own harbor, butthe enemy 
did not think it best to land. They entered Saco harbor, 
a few miles to the east of us, took several vessels, and 
burnt one on the stocks. They chased a privateer ship 
on shore, within a mile of our harbor, and finally captur¬ 
ed her, got her off and took her away. It was said that 
the privateer had on board a number of deserters from 
the British navy, but they made their escape before the 
enemy got possession of the privateer. Had they fallen 
into the hands of the British, they would probably have 
been hanged. We had hard times, in consequence of 
the embargo and war, and had to endure many priva¬ 
tions. At one time Indian corn was two and a half dol¬ 
lars per bushel, and many were entirely destitute ofbread 
for weeks together; but our sufferings were nothing, in 
comparison with many others, in different sections of our 
country. 

In the year 1814, I was appointed one of the assist¬ 
ant asssessors of the direct tax. My district consisted 
of the towns of Wells and Arundel. I was at that time, 
as might well be expected, in narrow circumstances; as 
was also a large proportion of my fellow citizens. Any 
legal means to increase our funds, was very desirable. 
I never sought for the office, however, either directly or 
indirectly, nor did I know any thing of the matter, un¬ 
til Daniel Wood, Esq. the principal assessor, called on 
me with a commission, and other documents made out 
in my name. I viewed the hand of divine providence 
19 * 


222 


MEMOIRS OF 


in this, and thought it my duty to accept the office. I 
afterwards ascertained that Judge Thatcher, who kept 
the post-office in Kennebunk, and was afterwards the 
collecter of the revenue at Eastport, recommended me. 
This business, however, proved very fatiguing and un¬ 
pleasant, and we earned the small pittance which gov¬ 
ernment allowed for this service, at a dear rate. It was* 
winter season, and we had short time allowed us in 
which to perform the service, and were much exposed 
to inclement weather. A large proportion of the peo¬ 
ple were hostile to the measures of government. The of¬ 
ficers of the large town of Wells would not permit me to 
have the least access to their town documents; of course 
I had much difficulty in making out lists of valuation, 
and although I was treated with politeness by many of 
the refined part of the community, yet there were those 
of high standing, who would encourage and counten¬ 
ance the vulgar to insult and abuse me. Sometimes I 
had my horse turned loose, and sometimes his harness 
was cut. In some places I felt in danger, if out in the 
evening. In one instance a merchant, who had held 
high and responsible offices, gave a weak and clamorous 
woman a quarter of a pound of tea, because she had 
treated me with insolent and abusive language. One 
lady, (if such a title be proper,) threatened to drive me 
out of the house with her broom-stick. Numbers were 
very loquacious, but not altogether so determined for 
war. These circumstances discover in some degree, 
what was at that period the spirit of the times. 

About the winding up of this business, as I was re¬ 
turning home on Saturday evening with a bushel of In¬ 
dian corn on my horse, for which I had just paid two 
dollars and fifty cents, I was passing the dwelling of an 
old Baptist deacon. I knew he had recently been very 
sick, but had just got out again, and I saw him a little 
before me, staggering along with some wood on his 
shoulder. He was a very poor man, and remarkably pi¬ 
ous. I contrasted the old gentleman’s condition with 
my own, and in a moment felt an impression to give the 
old saint a quarter of a dollar. About sixty cents was 
all the money I was master of, and this I had in small 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


223 


change; I therefore questioned the prbpriety of divid¬ 
ing my little purse so equally with this man, and quer¬ 
ied whether half the sum would not do, but durst not re¬ 
ject the first impression. My wife was at this time in poor 
health, though not destitute of the common comforts of 
life, and I again queried whether it was expedient for me 
thus to part with my money. It would be some time 
before I should get my money for my services, and that 
would not be sufficient to pay all my debts: but by the 
time I had got up with my old brother, and enquired 
about his health—he told me he had been very sick, &c. 
It was about the setting of the sun, and I had about 
four miles to ride, and felt in haste, but my conscience 
would not sutler me to leave him, until I had given the 
little sum of twenty-five cents. The old man was ex¬ 
ceeding grateful, and began to lavish encomiums on my 
wife for deeds of charity towards him, but his manner of 
speaking induced me to be off as soon as I could, and I 
went on my way, more at ease, I believe, than I should, 
if I had withholden the little sum, or any part of it. On 
reflection, I felt not a little ashamed that my covetous 
heart should object to a duty so obvious. By this simple 
narration I do not mean to sound a trumpet before me, 
but to exhibit the especial mercy ofGtd towards me. 

The next day being the Lord’s day, I preached twice 
in our meeting-house, and had an appointment at a school 
house at the Port, at five o’clock, which was about five 
miles from our meeting-house. Just as I was going in 
to the school-house, a gentleman requested me to give 
an opportunity for a contribution, before I closed the 
meeting, but did not inform me on what account. The 
contribution was taken, and after the meeting was dis¬ 
missed, a gentleman put their contribution into my hand 
amounting to about twenty dollars. It was entirely un¬ 
expected by me; there had never such a thing taken 
place there before, to my knowledge. Thejfirst thought 
that came to my mind, was the twenty-five cents I had 
parted with about twenty-four hours before. The wise 
man tells us to “ cast our bread upon the wafers, and 
that we shall find it after many days;” but in] this case, 
with me, it was not many days before I gathered about 


224 


MEMOIRS OP 


eighty fold. Thus the Almighty arm, which had been 
so often extended to pluck me from the grave, was mer¬ 
cifully extended to supply my wants. 

It seemed as if there was never a more seasonable 
supply, or one more unexpected. My wife was declin¬ 
ing under the pressure of a distressing disease—a poly¬ 
pus, which eventually brought her to her grave. 1 could 
not bear that she should be in want of any thing which I 
could possibly procure for her comfort. I could indeed 
obtain any of the necessaries of life I wished, on credit; 
but was unwilling to increase my debts, without some 
promising prospects of discharging them. The winter 
of 1815, was a period of uncommon affliction in my 
family. My wife’g disease increased to an alarming de¬ 
gree:—she was unable to lie down in her bed for many 
months, and she was obliged to sit almost erect, either in 
bed or in an easy chair, and frequently so much distres¬ 
sed for breath for some minutes, as to alarm the whole 
family. At the same time, Betsey, our adopted daugh¬ 
ter, about twenty years of age, was so out of health, 
that she was incapable of taking charge of the family. 
A few years before, she had had such a violent attack of 
typhus fever, that she never after recovered her health. 
I was obliged, of course, to employ two or three females 
in my family for a number of months. Medical endeav¬ 
ors seemed to be of no avail, in behalf of either my wife 
or daughter. The church and society, and all my neigh¬ 
bors, were exceeding kind. I was also under especial 
obligations to individuals of the Congregational society, 
from whom I received signal favors. 

At this period, I was in the fiftieth year of my age. I 
call the first twenty-five years of my life the morning of 
my days. This was overcast and frequently boisterous, 
but my meridian was bright and almost cloudless. It is 
true, that in a period so eventful for wrecking and over¬ 
turning of empires and kingdoms, it was to be expected 
that I should have to endure those little crosses and per¬ 
plexities to which mortals generally are subject; but I 
had no trials to be compared with those which I had 
previously suffered. That righteous God, who had in¬ 
dulged me with so much prosperity in the meridian of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


225 


my life, saw cause to reserve for me some adversity for 
the evening of my days, which has proved to be dark 
and stormy. It is possible, nevertheless, that my sun 
may set clear; which may God, of his infinite mercy 
grant, through Jesus Christ my Lord. 

The winter of 1814—’15, was a trying season to me. 
There appeared no prospect of my wife’s recovery, and 
but very little in favor of my daughter. 

Towards the spring of 1815, the physicians seemed to 
indulge some faint hopes that Mrs. S. might recover, 
but were soon convinced that their hopes were abort¬ 
ive. She endured her very distressing illness with re¬ 
markable fortitude and patience, until the first day of 
June, when she serenely departed this life, without a 
struggle or a groan, that she might rest from her labors, 
and enter into the joys of her Lord. In the 47th num¬ 
ber of the Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine, 
No. 11, of vol. 4, pages 372 and 378, was published a 
biographical memoir of Mrs. Sherburne, written by the 
Rev. Wm. Bachelder, late of Haverhill, Mass., de¬ 
ceased. 

Those only who have had the experience of losing 
the wife of their youth, can fully enter into the feelings 
of such an one. To me, at that time, the world seemed 
completely revolutionized; yet I presume that my case 
was not different from many others. We had lived to¬ 
gether almost twenty-four years. She left an only son, 
in the twentieth year of his age:—he has always been 
sickly. My daughter was so unwell that she could not 
attend her mother’s funeral. Towards the fall, howev¬ 
er, she partially recovered her health, but not so as to be 
able to take care of the family. 


226 


MEMOIRS OF 


CHAPTER XL 

Takes an appointment as a Missionary—He marries 
again—Defers his Mission and preaches several 
months at South Reading —Goes on a Mission in the 
States of New- York and Pennsylvania—-Removes 
with his family to Ohio—Dangers in descending the 
Alleghany and Ohio—Inflammation of the eyes — 
Family sick—Himself sick in Ohio—On his return 
from Ohio , he is taken sick in Middletown , Con .— 
Arrives at Kennebunk—Returns to Ohio and removes 
his family into the State of N. York. 

For several years last past, while my wife was in 
heath, 1 had felt strongly inclined to go to the State of 
Ohio. Under the impression that the land was cheap 
and good, and having but one son, and he but a feeble 
thing, I was very desirous to procure and leave a little 
inheritance for him; if, in the order of Divine Provi¬ 
dence, he should survive me. But my wife could nev¬ 
er endure the thoughts of leaving the place where she 
was very happily united with the little church, that, un¬ 
der God, we had been the instruments of raising up, 
(for she was indeed a help-meet, both temporally and 
spiritually,) nor could I feel myself at liberty to remove 
without her consent. 

I had no prospect of paying my debts, without selling 
my little farm, consisting of about thirty-seven acres of 
land. Elder Bachelder, formerly of Berwick, but at 
that time pastor of the Baptist church in Haverhill, was 
an intimate acquaintance, and a particular friend of 
mine. He was a member of the board of the Massachu¬ 
setts Missionary Society, and proposed to me to engage 
in a three months’ mission in the interior of the State of 
New-Hampshire. When the board met, in the au¬ 
tumn of 1815, they gave me the appointment for three 
months, but I found it very difficult to leave either my 
family or the church and society. The situation of my 
family was such that I was obliged to hire one girl con- 



ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


ocyj 

stantly, and sometimes two. I therefore thought it ex¬ 
pedient that 1 should marry again, and in December, 
1815,1 marned Miss Betsey Miller, a young woman 
whom l had baptized about thirteen years before. In 
the summer of 1 BIG, I attended the Warren Associa¬ 
tion, as a messenger from the New-Hampshire Associa¬ 
tion, to which ail the churches in the county of York, in 
Maine, at that time belonged. 

My object in attending the Warren Association, was 
to obtain an interview with the members of the mission¬ 
ary board, and if agreeable to them, to perform my mis¬ 
sionary services in the State of New-York, instead of 
New-Hampshire. In a conference with Dr. Baldwin, 
the chairman of the board, he presumed that the board 
would have no objection, and proposed that I should take 
a mission for six months. The board was to meet the 
next week, on the day preceding the sitting of Boston 
Association. On the Sabbath between the sitting of the 
Warren and Baptist Associations, I was requested to 
preach to the Baptist church in South Reading, ten 
I miles from Boston. This church being at that time des- 
1 titute of a pastor, and understanding that I contemplat- 
I ted going on a mission, requested that 1 should spend 
the time with them. I informed them that I did not feel 
myself at liberty to serve them, unless the measure 
should meet the cordial approbation of the board. The 
| church therefore appointed a committee to confer with 
the board on the subject, who willingly complied with 
; the request of the church, and also agreed to employ me 
| six months on a mission, if it would agree with my 
wishes. 

I served this church about four months, and was very 
agreeably accommodated in the family of Mr. Thomas 
| Evans, brother to elder George Evans. This church 
would have employed me longer, but I had so great a 
desire to travel in the western country, that I was resolv¬ 
ed, by God’s permission, to goon the mission. 

By my own request, the Baptist church and society in 
Arundel had not raised any tax for me for a number of 
years; for after the embargo, and the subsequent war 
commenced, a large proportion of the' people found it 


223 


MEMOIRS OF 


very difficult to support their families. There are gen¬ 
erally some delinquents:—there were individuals of the 
society w r ho insisted that delinquents should be distrain¬ 
ed upon tor their taxes. 

At an annual meeting of the society, I remonstrated 
against this measure, and observed that I could not feel 
myself at liberty to take any man’s money that was forc¬ 
ed away from him. I told them I would serve them as 
long as I could, and would take w'hat individuals were 
disposed to give me. Some highly applauded, and 
others censured me, on account of the principles I pro¬ 
fessed. Some said they would continue to pay at the 
same rate that they had previously done; and others said 
they would give me more:—in fact there were numbers 
who were not able to give any thing. I do not recol¬ 
lect to have heard any complaint when I engaged in the 
aforesaid mission. 

On the first day of February, 1817, I set out on my 
mission. I passed through Concord, in New-Hamp- 
shire, and Northampton, in Massachusetts, and crossed 
the Green Mountains in Beckett. The weather on the 
14th was the most severe 1 had ever experienced. I left 
elder Silas Kingsley’s, at 9 o’clock, A. M. and rode 
about four miles, to Elieda Kingsley’s, and found that 
one of my thumbs w T as frozen. 1 stopped two or three 
hours, and started again, and arrived at the house of a 
good old brother, Henry Veats, on the height of land, 
and found I had frozen both cheeks and one ear. I w 7 as 
exceedingly chilled, but in this friendly family every at¬ 
tention was paid me. I afterwards learned that a num¬ 
ber had perished that day, which was denominated the 
cold Friday. The next day I arrived at elder Jesse 
Hartwell’s, in New-Marlborough. 

I had been instructed by the missionary board, to call 
on elder Hartwell, and travel with him to the county of 
Bradford, Pa. where he was to leave me, and proceed 
on his mission to the State of Ohio. My labors were 
confined principally to the county of Bradford, until the 
first of July. On the second of July, I assisted in the 
ordination of elder Levi Baldwin, in the State of Nevr- 
York, not far from Oswego village, and on the fourth of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


229 


July I assisted in the ordination of elder Benjamin 
Ovett, at the court-house in Spencer, in Tioga county, 
State of New-York. I preached on both those occa¬ 
sions. 

I continued to journey westerly, pfeaching alternate¬ 
ly in New-York and Pennsylvania, and arrived at An¬ 
gelica, in Alleghany county, New-York, on the twenty- 
first of July. Here I had the satisfaction of receiving 
a letter from my family, from which I had been absent 
almost six months, and another from elder Daniel Sharp, 
Secretary of the board, informing me that I was author¬ 
ized to continue my mission four months longer. I visi¬ 
ted Olean point, on the Alleghany river, and coasted up 
that river about twenty-five miles into Pennsylvania. I 
then travelled northerly to the head waters of the Catta¬ 
raugus, and westerly down that river to Lodi, within 
eight miles of Lake. Erie. I then returned by a differ¬ 
ent route to Angelica, and then took my old track 
through the counties of Steuben and Tioga, in New- 
York, and in Tioga and Bradford, in Pennsylvania. I 
then coasted up the Susquehannah to Chenango Point, 
and up the Chenango to Norwich. I then considered 
myself off missionary ground, and made the best of my 
way home, where I arrived about Christmas, after hav¬ 
ing been absent from my family and friends almost eleven 
months. 

During my absence, I had a son born, on the first day 
of August, whose name we call Andrew Miller. There 
is, therefore, almost twenty-two-years difference in the 
age of my first and second son. 

As my report of this mission was published in the 
Massachusetts Baptist Missionary Magazine, I have 
thought best to give but a short sketch of my travels, 
&,c. I would observe, however, that I spent most of 
my time in the newest settlements, where the roads in 
general were very bad, and in a season when provisions 
were more scarce than they had ever been since the set¬ 
tlement of that country. 

Some of the people had to go sixty miles for grain; 
and some of the poorer inhabitants begged the bran of 
those who were in better circumstances, to make bread 
20 


230 


MEMOIRS 0# 


of, and some were entirely destitute for many days. 

A person engaging in such a mission must calculate 
to endure much fatigue, and many privations. To trav¬ 
el frequently, Jfive, ten and sometimes fifteen miles or 
more, without seeing a single human dwelling, in a dark 
woods and muddy road, four or five hundred miles from 
home, and altogether among strangers, is calculated to 
excite some gloomy feelings and prompt a wish to enjoy 
the pleasures of one’s own fire side, and the pleasant 
circle of intimate friends and acquaintance. 

It is no small alleviation to such feelings, however, to 
fall in with a family by whom you are most cordially 
greeted as a father, or a brother, who has been long ab¬ 
sent; or to fall in with a little assembly, whose ears and 
hearts are open to hear “the words of this life.” 

I never had occasion to complain of meeting with a 
cold reception, in any family I visited in all this Jong 
tour. 

I never attended a single funeral in all the time I was 
absent from home; but on my return, I found that near¬ 
ly fifty of my acquaintance in Arundel and in the towns 
adjacent were no more. The principal object which 
induced me to request the board to change my mission 
from New-Hampshire to New-York, was, that I might 
find a proper place to which I could remove my family. 
Mr. Timothy Kezer, of Kennebunk, of the Baptist 
church, and an intimate friend of mine, had resolved to 
remove into some part of the western country, and it 
was our mutual wish to settle in the same neighborhood. 

When I returned from my missionary lour, I found 
that Mr. Kezer had removed to the state of Ohio, and 
settled himself in the town of Batavia, in the county 
of Clermont, about twenty miles from Cincinnati. I 
immediately wrote him, and shortly after received a very 
friendly and pleasing answer. 1 was resolved to follow 
him. The next summer I sold my place, paid my debts, 
and procured a span of good horses and a new wagon, 
and got ready to start for Ohio on the twenty-fifth of 
August, 1818. 

Although I had no family connexions in this place, it 
was no small trial to leave a large circle of interesting 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


231 


friends, where I had spent fifteen of my happiest years. 
To me, however, it appeared the path of duty, and al¬ 
though the order of a wise and mysterious providence 
cannot be reversed, I have since, been fully convinced, 
that in this undertaking I did not make it a subject of 
prayer, and humble inquiry before God, as I should 
have done, and that I was by far too much impelled by 
worldly interest. 

My impressions were, that if my life should be con¬ 
tinued a few years, I might leave my family in the pos¬ 
session of a good farm in Ohio, which would prove to 
them a comfortable support. 

Little did I apprehend of the trials through which I 
had to pass, and the dangers to which I was to be ex¬ 
posed. 

According to our purpose we set out on the twenty- 
fifth of August, and I having acquaintance all the way to 
Boston, it was thought best to commence this long jour¬ 
ney by short stages. When we took our leave of friends 
and acquaintance along the way, it was under the im¬ 
pression that we should see each other’s face no more 
in this state of existence. 

In South Reading I left my family and team at my 
old friend, Thomas Evans’, several days, while I visited 
my friends in Boston. In Reading, my wife had a gen¬ 
erous present in shoes, from Mr. B. B. Willey, which 
supplied her for a number of years. The same gentle¬ 
man had made her several valuable presents before. In 
such ways the favors of divine providence are manifest¬ 
ed. * 

Nothing remarkable transpired with us until we came 
within two miles of the village of Belchertown, in Mas¬ 
sachusetts, where I had designed to put up that night; 
but just as the sun was sitting, our hinder axle broke 
down. This circumstance, at such a time of the day, 
placed us in a very unpleasant predicament. Our child, 
(a little more than a year old,) was quite troublesome. 
It was therefore my first concern to get a harbor for my 
wife and child. In this I had good success, and got 
them in with a friendly family, about thirty rods from 
my wagon; which was in such a narrow place in the 


232 


MEMOIRS OF 


road that another team could not pass. I had therefore 
to unload it and get it out of the way. The next day I 
got my family and goods to the village, and put up 
with elder Marshall, who had recently moved into the 
place. On inspecting my wagon, it was found neces¬ 
sary to have a new set of axletrees, and it being Satur¬ 
day, we had no prospect of getting under way again un¬ 
til Monday, for I never travelled any on the Sabbath un¬ 
til I got on the Alleghany river. We were hospitably 
entertained by elder M. I preached for him on the 
Sabbath, and on Monday afternoon got ready to set out 
again. 

We pursued our journey towards Albany, but had to 
hire a team to help us over the mountains. At Albany 
we called at elder Joshua Bradley’s. He was at that 
time attending the commencement at Brown Universi¬ 
ty, but his lady treated us with marked attention. Here 
we spent another Sabbath, and I preached part of the 
day to the Baptist church. We had gone but a few 
miles from Albany before we were obliged to get our 
axletrees shortened, and this circumstance compelled 
us to fix a bolster on our hind axletree, so as to raise the 
body of the wagon above the naves of the wheels. The 
eastern people made so little use of wagons, that they 
knew no better than to secure the body of the wagon 
on the hinder axle, nor had I knowledge enough to give 
any better directions. 

Before I set out on this journey, I had designed to 
have kept a journal, but I had so many other cares, and 
was so fully employed, that I never wrote a single line 
in my book. Although my memory is ver,y treacherous, 
yet the most important occurrences are fresh in my mind. 

At this time the tide of emigration was sitting strong¬ 
ly to the West. When I was at Olean Point, in the 
summer of 1817, I was told that more than three hun¬ 
dred families descended the Alleghany in the spring 
freshet, and I think it highly probable that as many went 
into the western states by the w r ay of Pittsburg and 
along lake Erie. Mr. Kezer informed me that he saw 
two rafts of boards lashed together, from Olean, on 
which were thirteen families, their wagons, and part of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


233 


their horses. He also mentioned an instance, in which 
a raft from Olean brought down more than one hundred 
persons. 

It cost some of those families all their property to 
move into that country, and indeed many set out who 
were almost destitute of property when they started. 
The emigrants generally furnished their own provisions, 
and paid a certain rate at taverns for the use of cook¬ 
ing utensils and table furniture; and in most instances 
carried their own beds to sleep on. In many instances 
they were not very welcome guests at taverns, as there 
was not much to be gained by such customers. Wher¬ 
ever we put up at a tavern, we hired our lodging. 
Whenever I could make it convenient, I put up with my , 
Baptist brethren. 

One evening I put up at a public house in a small vil¬ 
lage, and in the morning there was an appearance of a 
heavy storm. I enquired of the landlord whether there 
were any Baptist farmers on the road, a few miles ahead; 
he could not inform me of any, but observed that there 
was a Baptist lawyer, who had an office in the village. 

I called at his office to make the enquiry. I wished to 
have gone on six or eight miles, as I had a covered wag¬ 
on, but the lawyer chose to have me go to his own 
house; and when he came home at noon, (for he was 
engaged in business in his office,) he requested" that we 
would make ourselves contented until he should think 
it proper for us to go on. - We tarried several days, 
one of which was the Sabbath, and when we went on, 
this lady bountifully replenished our stock of provisions. 

I believe he was the first Baptist lawyer I had ever seen. 

When I got on to Rushford, in the Holland purchase, 

I struck on to my old missionary track, where we were 
courteously received and entertained by Messrs. Free¬ 
man, Going, M’Call and Benjamin. We tarried with 
these friends a week or ten days, in which time I visited 
Olean, and they would have us tarry longer. We were 
now within thirty miles of Olean, but the water was not 
sufficiently high for boats to descend the river. 

Judge M’Call advised me to go no farther; but I had 
set my face to go to Ohio, and to Ohio I must go. 

20* 


234 


MEMOIRS OF 


When I was at Olean, the year before, I had made 
my principal home at Judge Brooks’; and he engaged, 
that in case I should move my family, he would take me 
into his house, and accordingly did so. There were 
probably a hundred families new waiting for the water 
to rise, that they might descend the river; and the num¬ 
ber daily increasing. Many of them could obtain no 
other habitation than their wagons, until they could pro¬ 
cure boards or slabs, to build what they called a shantee. 
They would, with boards, stakes and withes, build a kind 
of sheep’s pen, and cover it with boards or slabs, fre¬ 
quently without any floor but the ground, and sometimes 
two or three families would camp together in those 
shantees. 

In this little village, situated among large smutty pine 
stumps, were five or six taverns, three or four stores, 
and probably twenty or thirty other houses, ' It was a 
place of real speculation. Among the emigrants were 
characters of almost all descriptions:—some very rich, 
and others extremely poor. Speculators were there 
from various parts of the country, for the purpose of 
buying up horses from the emigrants, who were fre¬ 
quently glad to-get rid of them, at almost any price r 
as horse keeping was very high. They could seldom 
sell them for cash, but were obliged to take goods at 
an extravagant price. Olean point was denominated 
the u jumping off place ,” as frequently persons in des¬ 
perate circumstances would “clear out” (as it w ? as cal¬ 
led,) and hasten to this place, step or jump on board the 
first boat in which they could obtain a passage, and be 
off. Sometimes, however, they were overtaken by a 
wife, or a creditor, before they had opportunity to em¬ 
bark. A small unfinished room would let for a dollar 
per week, and there were many erected for that purpose. 

Provisions were very dear; flour at six dollars per hun¬ 
dred; bacon and butter at twenty-five cents per pound, 
and other provisions in proportion. We were detained 
seven weeks in this place, before there was a sufficiency 
of water in the Alleghany for boats to descend. My horses 
cost me one hundred and forty dollars, but I did not sell 
them for more than half that price. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE, 


233 

One Major Shepherd, with whom I had some acquain¬ 
tance at Tioga point, the year before, had built a con¬ 
venient boat to take his family down the river. He of¬ 
fered me a passage for ten dollars. I took my family on 
board on the second day of December, in the afternoon, 
and in company with several boats pushed off for Ohio; 
having on board several passengers, who boarded with 
Major Shepherd. 

We had already been almost four months on our jour¬ 
ney; and our long detention at Olean—‘the excessive 
high price of house-rent, and provisions—together with 
the approach of winter, and the probability of the fall of 
the river in a short time—all conspired to induce us to 
hasten on our journey. 

I was much pleased on pushing off into the channel of 
the Alleghany, in company with four or five other boats. 
Imagination could scarcely paint a more pleasant scene. 
It was perfectly calm; the river about fifty yards wide in 
this place, and beautifully overhung on either side with 
majestic find spreading trees. The gentle current, slo¬ 
ping banks, and serpentine course, presented such a 
beautiful prospect as could not fail to elevate the mind 
of any one possessed of sensibility. 

I had now once more launched out upon this delusive 
and treacherous element, which had heretofore, in so 
many instances, proved so disastrous. I scarcely anti¬ 
cipated any further difficulty, until we should have arrived 
on the pleasant banks of the Ohio. As we were thus se¬ 
curely gliding down the stream, without the least appre¬ 
hension of danger, at about the going down of the sun, 
we ran upon an old log in the middle of the river, and 
stuck fast. To my shame I would speak if, I did not 
apply the admonition of Watts, in the following lines, 
while I was feasting my fancy: 

“ We should suspect some danger nigh, 

When we possess delight. - ’ 

We immediately got out our setting poles, and found 
the water to be about ten feet deep, and the log elevated 
.from the bottom at an angle of about forty or fifty de- 


236 


MEMOIRS OF 


grees. We could wheel our boat round and round on 
the log, but could not get her off. It was indeed appal¬ 
ling to be thus fast moored, and see the other boats of 
our little fleet all pass by and leave us. 

We were in league with a Mr. Abbott, who had his 
sons and sons-in-law, and daughters and daughters-in- 
law with him, in a boat about as large as ours. They 
having gone on about a mile, and finding that w r e did not 
come on, were faithful to their engagements, landed, and 
came back to our assistance. But it was now nearly 
dark, and we had no skiff or canoe, and lay fast in the 
middle of the river, in ten feet of water. There was no 
alternative for us but to remain where we were until 
morning, although in imminent danger of filling and sink¬ 
ing; for the bow of our boat was already six inches higher 
than our stern, and the river was falling, and the more 
the river fell, the more our danger increased. As might 
be expected, our women were much frightened; and if 
the men were equally so, they kept it to themselves. 

We having on board a Mr. S. a Free-will Baptist 
preacher, and a deacon M., a Presbyterian, as might be 
expected, we had prayers that evening. Goa was gra¬ 
ciously pleased to preserve us until morning, and our 
comrades came early to our assistance. They cut two 
or three long poles, and lashed end to end so as to reach 
us. We caught the poles and chained them to our boat, 
and the men on shore, by my direction, rigged what sail¬ 
ors call a “ Spanish windlass,” and shortly drew us off 
the log. To our great joy we rejoined our comrades, 
and went on pleasantly:—but alas! there were yet trou¬ 
bles ahead. 

We shortly came in sight of several boats which were 
fast upon the ripples, and the men out in the water en¬ 
deavoring to heave them along with handspikes, and it 
was shortly our lot to be in the same predicament. We 
all succeeded however in getting over; and passing on 
a few miles, found ourselves in a similar condition, and 
we had repeated scenes of this kind that day, and at 
night stopped at the head of Jemmison’s islands, which 
were dangerous to pass. The channel was narrow and 
crooked, and the water very rapid, and there were some 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


237 


dangerous obstructions in the way. On the morning of 
the third day, we found ourselves surrounded with ice. 
We lay in a cove where the water was still, and the ice 
was about an inch thick. We broke away the ice and 
pushed into the stream, and descended the rapids without 
injury. 

Hitherto my age and infirmities had exempted me 
from exposing myself to the water, but I was now oblig¬ 
ed to assist, for sometimes it took two or three boats’ 
crews to get over a ripple. I was thus exposed two 
days in succession, sometimes in the water half an hour 
at a time, and sometimes up to my middle. On the fourth 
night after we started, there came a heavy rain, and 
raised the river five feet perpendicularly. The storm 
terminated with snow, which was five or six inches deep. 
The velocity of the current was now much increased, 
which greatly facilitated our passage to Conawango 
creek. Here were a number of large rafts of boards and 
timber ready to set off. Their owners were depending on 
men who might be coming down in boats, to help them 
work their rafts. It was moreover an advantage to a 
boat to join a rafi, for they got along much faster, and 
the raft men had the privilege of cooking, and sleeping 
under cover, in the boat. 

A Mr. Woodworth had two large rafts, with which he 
was bound to Maysville, Kentucky. Mr. Abbott’s boat 
joined to one of those rafts, and our boat to the other. 
It was Mr. Woodworth’s design to join all together when 
we got into the Ohio. 

Our pilot had the misfortune to run our raft on to 
Deadman’s ripple, fifteen miles below Pittsburg, about 
an hour before day light. The other raft was at that 
time some distance ahead. Our raft was swung round 
by the stream and completely shut our boat in on the 
head of the island. The water was fast falling, and it 
was with difficulty we got off our boat. After some 
hours labor, we proceeded on and came up with Wood¬ 
worth’s raft and Abbott’s boat, at Heaver creek, thirty 
miles from Pittsburg. The Ohio had fallen ten feet 
since the last, rain, and the ice was increasing very fast. 
Two young men, who were going down in a skiff, very 


MEMOIRS OF 


23S 

gladly joined our raft, and their skiff was of great ser¬ 
vice to us. By the time we got to Steubenville, seventy- 
three miles from Pittsburg, the river was almost cov¬ 
ered with ice. I was under the necessity of landing at 
Steubenville, to purchase a book called the navigator. 

The river was so much obstructed with ice, we had 
some difficulty in landing, and much greater in coming 
up with our raft again, which we did not effect in some 
hours. Our raft at length became entirely unmanagea¬ 
ble; in despite of all we could do, it would turn about in 
the river, and the broken ice would pile up two or three 
feet thick upon the raft when it swung round. 

At length we were driven on the Kentucky shore, in 
the night. We were all very much alarmed at the ter¬ 
rific rumbling of the raft against the ice and the shore. 
The ice was in many places piled three or four feet thick 
on. the shore, and sometimes the large sheets of ice, con¬ 
taining three or four, and sometimes even ten acres, 
would rush against the raft with a tremendous crash. 
Fortunately for us, the boats were frozen fast to the raft, 
and the ice on the side where the boats were, was much 
firmer than elsewhere. 

In the morning we succeeded in making fast to the 
shore, but were soon broken away again by the ice. At 
length, Mr. Burke, a lawyer, came down to the shore, 
and advised us to fall a large sycamore tree into the riv¬ 
er, a little above our raft, in order to turn away the ice. 
In this we succeeded, and had a safe harbor, where we 
lay several days until the ice had chiefly ran out of the 
river. By this time the raft had grounded; we then took 
our boats, and in about three days we landed at New 
Richmond, twenty miles above Cincinnati, and ten miles 
from Batavia, whither we were bound. 

Major Shepherd went on to Cincinnati, was violently 
attacked with a fever, and died in about a week;—he was 
about forty-five years of age, and a fine, healthy, robust 
man. He had been but very little more exposed than 
myself, and when he left us, was in perfect health and 
in good spirits. Thus my brothers, sisters, and acquain¬ 
tances, are cut down—my comrades and shipmates have 
fallen by hundreds, and I am still spared. May God, of 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 239 

his infinite mcrcy ? prepare me that I may be ready when 
he calls. 

The next day after we landed, I took a horse and went 
to Batavia to see my friend Kezer, who had been long 
looking for me. 1 was joyfully welcomed by the whole 
family. His wife was an amiable woman, and highly 
esteemed by all who were acquainted with her. The 
next day Mr. K. procured a w r agon and horses, and 
also a span of horses for the wagon which I had taken 
down the river with me, and on the following day he took 
me and my family to his house, January 1st, 1819. I 
was four months and five days on my tedious and ex¬ 
pensive journey. 

Batavia in Ohio, now the county town of Clermont 
county, is situated on the north bank of the east branch 
of the little Miami river, ten miles from the Ohio, and 
twenty from Cincinnati. Having hired a small house, 
and partially settled my family concerns, 1 bought a horse 
and visited a number of persons with whom I had been 
acquainted in Maine. There was a Baptist church with¬ 
in three miles, but they had a pastor; there were several 
others within fifteen miles, who were generally unsup¬ 
plied with preachers. The Methodists occupied the 
ground in Batavia, I however preached occasionally for 
them. Towards spring my wife was quite out of health. 
My son John was also enfeebled by an hemorrhage of the 
lungs or stomach. . Having a little money of his own, I 
advised him to purchase some village lots which were 
then rising in value. He purchased four, containing one 
acre of land, for which he gave one hundred and fifty 
dollars. In six weeks after, he could have taken two 
hundred dollars for them, but in six months he could not 
have obtained fifty dollars for the whole. 

On the 16th of June, my third son was born. About 
this time I read Riley’s narrative; in consequence of 
which I became so partial to Win. VVillshire, the British 
Consul at Mogadore, that I was desirous to perpetuate 
his name, not however to the exclusion of that of my 
brother Samuel, whom I have before mentioned. We 
therefore called the boy Samuel William Willshire. 

About this time little Andrew began to decline rapid* 8 


240 


MEMOIRS OF 


ly, under extreme weakness of the bowels, and there 
seemed but little prospect of his recovery. In Septem¬ 
ber, I was exceedingly distressed with an inflammation 
of the eyes, which continued several months. During 
several weeks, I was obliged to keep^house, and have the 
windows all darkened. These circumstances obliged us 
to hire a girl, at a dollar per week, most of the time. 

Under such circumstances, I was in a fair way to be¬ 
come moneyless in a short time. Before I left Maine, 

I had, through the agency of Judge Thatcher, before 
named, made application to the Secretary of War, for a 
pension. The application was made in April, 1818, but 
I received no returns from the War department. I wait¬ 
ed until July, and thought that it was requisite I should 
make some further efforts. 

A Mr. Wm. P. Prebble, district attorney, (the son of 
Col. Prebble of Old York, deceased, who was a veteran 
of the revolution,) for some cause, became quite partial 
towards me, and cheerfully proffered his services to fur¬ 
nish me with a new set of papers, which should have the 
signature of A. K. Paris, Esq. district judge, who has 
since been the Governor of Maine. The district judge 
was the most proper officer through whom to make ap¬ 
plication for pensions. The 8th of July, the district 
court held its session at Portland, and of course Marshal 
Thornton was there; therefore, having reference to 
Thornton and Prebble, I might venture to say I had two 
friends in court. To the judge I was a stranger, but 
my friends introduced me to him as a Baptist clergyman; 
and after my documents were completed, the Judge had 
the politeness to address a private letter to Mr. Cal¬ 
houn, the Secretary of War, representing me as “ a meri¬ 
torious character,” and expressing his hope that I should 
succeed. Mr. Prebble advised me to obtain, if possible, 
the depositions of some of the officers of the Ranger, to 
prove that I had served on board of her. I knew but two 
of the Ranger’s crew who were living, except my uncle, 
James Weymouth, and myself. They were both officers: 
viz. Elijah Hall, Esq. of Portsmouth, and Lieut. Morris, 
of Berwick. Hall was first Lieutenant of the ship, and 
Morris was Lieutenant of marines. I obtained the de- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


241 


positions of those gentlemen, and after reaching Ohio, 
I forwarded my papers to General C. Storer, a Senator 
from New-Hampshire, and the Hon. J. Holmes, a Sen¬ 
ator from Maine. I wrote those gentlemen on the third 
ofFebruary, 1819, requesting them to use the deposi¬ 
tions in support of my first application, if it should be 
found in the office, in order that my pension might com¬ 
mence at the date of my first application; for by this 
time cash was so scarce with me, that the pension from 
April to July was an object of consequence. I was ap¬ 
prehensive that Messrs. Storer and Holmes would leave 
Washington before my letter would arrive, and on the 
12th ofFebruary I wrote to the Secretary of War, stat¬ 
ing the case to him fully. 

About the first of March I received letters from Messrs. 
Storer and Holmes, informing that they had been to the 
office and obtained a promise that my certificate should 
be forwarded. About the 20th of March, I received a 
communication from Mr. 1. L. Edwards, informing me 
that mine of the 12th of February, to the Secretary of 
War, had been sent to that office, and that it did not ap¬ 
pear, from the records of that office, that my application 
had ever been received. I was “ taken all aback,” as a 
sailor would say; and after pondering awhile, I wrote the 
Secretary a long letter:—I told him ‘‘ the truth, the whole 
truth, and nothing but the truth,’ 5 and some time in May, 
I received a most acceptable answer, viz. a pension cer¬ 
tificate, commencing at the date of my first application. 

It seemed that there had been some unaccountable 
blunder in the office. This pension was now my sheet 
anchor, but I had received but one payment before my 
cable was cut away, and all the pensioners struck adrift 
again. 

Towards the fall, my son John got some better, but my 
wife and Andrew, still continued quite feeble. In No¬ 
vember, Mr. Kezer went down the Mississippi, and on 
his return in the spring, soon after he entered the Ohio, 
was attacked with a fever, and in a few days died; leav¬ 
ing a large family'strangers in a strange land. Towards 
the spring, Mrs. Sherburne’s health was much more im¬ 
paired. In March we moved into the county of Brown, 
21 


S42. 


MEMOIRS OF 


in the neighborhood of the village of Ripley. My wife 
was ill able to endure the journey, of about thirty miles, 
and was in a feeble state through the summer, and a con¬ 
siderable part of the time entirely confined to her bed. 

Government having stayed the payment of pensions to 
the revolutionists, we were under the necessity of going 
through a round of ceremonies. We were to make out 
a schedule of our property, and attest to its correctness 
before a court of record, &c. To report the names, 
ages, number and condition of our families. By reason 
of some informality, all the applications from the county 
of Brown were returned. I took my papers from the 
file, had them corrected, and forwarded them to J. W. 
Campbell, Esq. who was a representative from the coun¬ 
ty of Brown. This gentleman particularly attended to 
my business, and forwarded to me the certificate of the 
continuation of my name on the pension roll, dated Jan¬ 
uary 15th, 1821. 

While in this place, I partially supplied the churches 
of Red Oak and Decatur. I lived within the bounds of 
Red Oak church a year and a half. The members were 
quite scattered, and many of them poor; I was conse¬ 
quently much dependant on my friends. I cannot for¬ 
get the especial favors I received from Dr. Campbell of 
Ripley, who at all times gratuitously attended my family 
in sickness, while I resided in this place. 

In the Autumn of 1821, I visited the churoh in Berlin, 
in the county of Delaware, one hundred miles north of 
Ripley. They invited me to remove my family there, to 
which I agreed; and they sent teams and removed me at 
their own expense. 

I took up my residence with a Baptist brother, whose 
name was John Johnson, and found him and his family 
very friendly. Soon after our arrival my wife was taken 
sick, and was confined to her bed several weeks. In 
the winter of 1822, I taught a school in Berlin. In this 
place I contemplated procuring a few acres of land and 
building a log house, and in order that I might be nearer 
to the place where I contemplated building, I removed 
into the house of another Baptist brother, by the name of 
Nathan Sherwood. While residing with this friendly 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


243 


family I had occasion to make a journey to the counties 
of Clermont and Brown; and narrowly escaped being 
drowned in the Sciota river. I was unacquainted with 
the ford way, and although I had been particular in en¬ 
quiring respecting the depth of water, I did not get pro¬ 
per views of the direction in which I should have passed 
this river. I entered in a plain wagon road, but my sight 
was very poor, and it being foggy, I could not discern 
the landing place on the other side. I should have as¬ 
cended the river in the middle, several rods further, 
where the water was shallow, but my horse was inclined 
to strike for the shore, and I suffered him to take his 
own way. He soon began to swirp; the wagon sunk 
and swung down with the current: but he was a power¬ 
ful animal, and reached the shore and drew me up a 
very steep bank on to a bench of the river. The horse 
trembled like a leaf, but he was not more frightened than 
his driver. In view of the danger, I trembled and was 
astonished—I discovered that if the stream had swept 
me down a few rods further, I could not possibly have 
landed, nor were there any near to have come to my 
assistance ! u O, that men would praise the Lord for 
his goodness and for his wonderful works to the children 
of men! And let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanks¬ 
giving and declare his works with rejoicing.” 

The Lord saw fit to defeat my design of building, for 
in August, 1822,1 was violently attacked with that dis¬ 
tressing disease, the fever and ague, which continued 
until November. For the first week I had a fit only 
every other day, but after that every day, and constantly 
attended with delirum. 

This disease very much reduced my body, mind, and 
purse, and left me quite poor. The prospects before me 
were gloomy indeed. As I began slowly to recover, my 
wife declined in health; and my physicians informed me 
that I should probably have another attack the next year. 
I was at a loss what method to take: I felt as though I 
could preach no more, I found my memory much impair¬ 
ed, and I could myself discover that I had become more 
peevish than usual. 

Our clothing, and especially our bedding, had not been 


244 


MEMOIRS OF 


replenished for four years, nor was a single member of 
the family able to earn any thing. I saw that although 
my pension was of material service to me, it could not 
do every thing. 

I finally resolved to move my family into Columbus, 
about twenty miles from Berlin. And I further resolved 
to ask the general government to give me a small piece 
of land, presuming that as I had been so partially remu¬ 
nerated for some of my services, and as there was yet a 
quantity of land in Ohio unsold, and that some of it was 
in small lots, I thought that under my peculiar circum¬ 
stances they would shew me some favor. It was my de¬ 
sign to visit the seat of government, and thence to jour¬ 
ney eastward and spend the next season, hoping to es¬ 
cape the fever and ague. 

There were persons whom I considered as having good 
information, who thought there was no doubt of my suc¬ 
cess. At any rate, I could petition with strong hope. 
On reflection, I could recognize various distressing 
scenes, when my circumstances were such as I could 
make no effort for relief with the least possible prospect 
of success. I came to the conclusion, that with my own 
endeavors my country owed me a living, and whether the 
government would help me or not, I was persuaded that 
there were individuals who, if they knew my circum¬ 
stances, would freely afford me some relief. I was con¬ 
firmed in this idea from the circumstance of receiving 
many friendly offices from several gentlemen, after I had 
removed my family into Columbus. 

Having made the best provision I could for my family, 
I commended them to God, and set out for Washington 
about the middle of January, 1823. On the 20th I fell 
in company with elder J. M’Aboy, of Kentucky, and 
rode with him to Marietta, where he introduced me to Ca¬ 
leb Emerson, Esq. another Baptist lawyer. In this place 
I found E. Emerson, formerly a deacon in the Baptist 
church in South Reading, when I preached at that place. 
Mr. E. introduced me to the Rev. Mr. Robins, the Con¬ 
gregational minister, who invited me to preach for him 
on the Sabbath, which I did three times—this was the 
first of my preaching since my sickness. In this place I 





ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


245 


found Capt. N. Dodge, from New-Hampshire, with 
whose father and family I was well acquainted. Mr. 
Robins and others, solicited me to spend several days 
and deliver several lectures. The person whom I have 
here named, as well as others, manifested their friend¬ 
ship towards me. I was quite indisposed in consequence 
of preaching frequently. 

Having recruited myself and horse, I set forward oil 
my journey; passed up the Ohio, went through Wheeling 
and on the Cumberland road to Cumberland, in Mary¬ 
land., where I arrived on Lord’s day. Feb. 8th, I called 
on the Rev. Mr. Kennedy, a Presbyterian, for whom I 
preached in the evening. He introduced me to a young 
Baptist preacher, by the name of Charles Pollard. He 
was out of health. With him I spent the next day very 
agreeably, it being stormy. Mr. Kennedy took my horse 
from the tavern to his own stable, nor would Mr. Kripp, 
the innkeeper, take any thing for my dinner or horse 
keeping. On the 11th, as I was passing over a sheet of 
ice which was covered with light snow, my horse fell sud¬ 
denly on his right side; he arose immediately; my right 
foot was confined in the stirrup; the fall was so sudden 
that I lost hold of the bridle, I tried to stop the horse by 
speaking to him, but could not—he soon became fright¬ 
ened, and was on the point of starting on a gallop, when 
the girth of the saddle broke and relieved me, after hav¬ 
ing been dragged about four rods. I was considerably 
hurt by the fall, and if the girth of my saddle had not 
broken, I should probably have been killed in a few min¬ 
utes. How mercifully has God interposed his power, 
from time to time to preserve my life when in imminent 
danger. 

I arrived at Washington on the 17th ofFeb. 1823, and 
called on the Rev. Obadiah B. Brown, pastor of the Bap¬ 
tist church, and one of the principal clerks in the post- 
office. I was affectionately received and entertained by 
Mr. B. and his lady. Gov. Meigs, who was the post¬ 
master general, Col. R. M. Johnson, a senator from 
Kentucky, and Maj. I. Johnson, a representative from 
Kentucky, were boarders with elder Brown at this time, 
I was by Mr. B. introduced to those gentlemen respec- 
81 * 


246 


MEMOIRS OF 


lively, and as I became one of the family for eight or 
ten days, I became partially acquainted with them. Maj. 
Johnson was a member of the Baptist church. 

I made it my first business to see Mr. J. N. Camp¬ 
bell, a representative from Ohio, whom I have before 
mentioned, to whom I had forwarded my petition from 
Marietta. H e treated me with particular attention. He 
informed me that he had presented my petition; that it 
had been read and committed; but that he could give me 
no encouragement that its prayer would be granted. I 
took a walk to the capitol, and before I entered, exam¬ 
ined it without—a superb building indeed: I entered this 
stately edifice. It would require some hours to walk 
through and survey its interior. I could not but inquire 
whether all this expense for show was necessary. While 
walking in the capitol, to my surprise and joy, I met Mr. 
Mark Harris, of the Baptist church in Portland, Maine, 
one of my most intimate friends; he was a member of the 
House of Representatives. In the evening, Mr. Harris 
called to see me at Mr. Brown’s. It was an object with 
me to introduce the subject of my petition, and engage 
the attention of those gentlemen who boarded with Mr. 
Brown, as well as Mr. Harris, in its interest. They 
were all agreed that my claim was just. It was known 
that the chairman of the committee on such claims, was 
hostile to the measure. They therefore would not ad¬ 
vise me to pay any further attention to it. 

Governor Meigs observed that he would cheerfully 
appoint me to a Post-office, worth four or five hundred 
dollars per year, if there was any vacancy where it would 
be convenient for me to be located. I observed to those 
gentlemen that I must have some assistance from some 
quarter, if I could obtain it by honest means; that I had 
been unfortunate in removing my family to Ohio; that 
they were in a helpless condition; that we had been re¬ 
duced to this condition by sickness and other misfor¬ 
tunes; that it was my lot to return from prison a beggar, 
three times, during the war of the revolution; that beg¬ 
ging was a humiliating business, but that if there was no 
other alternative, I must try it again.—As might be ex- 
ected, those gentlemen contributed something to my 
li ef. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


2L7 

The next day the Governor observed to Mr. Brown, 
that he thought Mr. S’s hat was hardly becoming a Bap¬ 
tist clergyman, and requested a person to see that I was 
furnished with a new hat. 

The reader will probably recollect, that in the early 
part of my narrative, I mentioned that I once set my 
face to go to Alexandria, in Virginia, “ to buy and sell 
and get gain,” and that I was defeated in my purpose by 
a British frigate. Now, being within a few miles of that 
place, it seemed to be some object to visit it. As I was 
a stranger, my brother Brown had the politeness to give 
me a letter of introduction to Rev. Mr. Cone. 1 found 
him and his lady very friendly and affectionate. I was 
to preach for him the next day in the forenoon. Mr. 
Cone inquired whether he should ask for a contribution 
for me. I observed that as contributions were so com¬ 
mon on different occasions, that under present circum¬ 
stances I did not wish it—but if individuals who were in 
easy circumstances, were disposed to afford me any as¬ 
sistance, it would be very acceptable. The next day 
Mr. C. handed me six dollars, in addition to several 
presents which he made me. I returned to Washington 
on Tuesday, and with the Rev. Luther Rice and others, 
visited Columbia College, and tarried all night with 
Professor Chase. 

On Lord’s day, March 2d, preached for elder Brown 
to the Baptist church in the city; and on the fourth of 
March set out for Baltimore,was.kindly received by Rev. 
Messrs. Healy and Reese, and on Lord’s day preach¬ 
ed to the third Baptist church, which was destitute of a 
pastor. I put up with a brother, Wm. Cook, who had 
an interesting family. Next Lord’s day, I preached for 
Mr. Reese and was invited home by a brother France, 
whose family paid particular attention to me. I made 
my home with Messrs. Cook and France, during the 
time I was in Baltimore. 

There had recently been a destructive fire at Alexan¬ 
dria, and Mr. Cone was among the sufferers. 

On the third Lord’s day in March, I preached for Mr. 
Healey, at Fell’s Point. At this church as well as at 
the Ebenezer church, where Mr. Reese preaches, there 


248 


MEMOIRS OF 


was a contribution made for me, amounting in the whole 
to seven or eight dollars. In Baltimore I received 
some assistance from several wealthy individuals, of the 
Baptist denomination. 

On the twenty-second of March, set out for Lancaster, 
in Pennsylvania. Here I put up at Col. Slaugh’s tav¬ 
ern. He was a revolutionary officer. I called on Rev. 
Mr. Ashmead, the Presbyterian, and Rev. Mr. Muche- 
lenburg, the Episcopal clergyman. They each of them 
first gave me some money, and then recommended me to 
the attention of some of the most wealthy of their con¬ 
gregations. Colonel S. advised me to go to Harris- 
burgh:—accordingly, 'I did, and called on Dr. Loch- 
morn, of the Lutheran church, and on the Rev. Wm. 
De Witt, of the Presbyterian church. Those gentle¬ 
men, like their brethren in Lancaster, first bestowed 
their charities upon me and then named some of their 
more wealthy parishioners. I had fallen in with no man 
since I left home, that manifested more sympathy for me 
than did Mr. De Witt. He introduced me to Governor 
Hester and several other gentlemen of distinction. 

On Lord’s day 1 went to hear Mr. De Witt in the 
morning, and preached for him in the afternoon; and on 
Monday evening attended a prayer meeting at Mr. De 
Witt’s house. 

On the first of April I set out for Philadelphia; pass¬ 
ed through Lebanon and Reading; in each of those pla¬ 
ces I found generous friends. On the first Sabbath in 
April I preached for Rev. C. Moor’s people at Brandy¬ 
wine church, near the Yellow Springs. They r gave me 
four dollars. At this place I was kindly entertained by 
a brother John Tustin. In going on toward Philadel¬ 
phia, I passed over Gen. Washington’s camp ground, 
near Valley Forge, and was within a few miles of Pao- 
li, where Gen. Wayne with a detachment of our army 
was surprised. I went into a house, the family were of 
the denomination of Friends. In conversation with the 
old lady, I ascertained that I was in the very house 
where Washington made his head quarters. I recol-. 
lected to have heard soldiers of my acquaintance, speak 
of events which transpired here and at Paoli. My mind 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


249 


was solemnly employed in contemplating the scenes 
through which the revolutionists passed. I presume 
that there was not one in ten living at that time. 

I called on deacon E. Siter, at Siterville, on the 
Lancaster turnpike road. The deacon and his lady 
treated me with special attention. I called on elder 
Horatio Jones, whom I found quite friendly; he and his 
brethren gave me about ten dollars. On the ninth of 
April I went into Philadelphia and put up with a broth¬ 
er, David Johns, at the sign of the white horse, in Bank 
street. I visited Dr. H. Holcomb, Dr. Roge rs and 
Dr. Staughton. Dr. Holcomb invited me to preach for 
him, as did Dr. Staughton. I at first declined; but fi¬ 
nally preached for each of them more than once before 
I left the city. I received favors from all those gentle¬ 
men, as also from a number of their wealthy brethren. I 
also called on Dr Ely, who treated me courteously and 
gave me a book and three dollars. 

In Philadelphia, I fell in with elder Daniel Lewis, 
w’ith whom 1 had been acquainted in Maine. He was 
now preaching at Frankfort, a few miles from the city. 
I spent a Sabbath with him and preached all day. His 
people made a contribution for me. 

I was invited to preach to a Baptist church, called the 
Great Valley church, about fifteen miles from Philadel¬ 
phia. Deacon Siter, before mentioned, belonged to this 
church. I complied with the request on two Sabbaths, 
and also delivered a lecture or two. They gave me fif¬ 
teen dollars. Deacons Philips and Siter, and a brother, 
Daniel Abrahams, gave me fifteen dollars more. My 
horse, which cost me seventy dollars and was the great¬ 
est part of my estate when I left Ohio, proved so lame 
that I was afraid to ride him. I therefore sold him 
with my saddle and bridle for thirty dollars. 

From the Great Valley I returned to Philadelphia; 
bid an affectionate farewell to my friends, and took the 
steam-boat for Bordentown. We then took the stage, 
passed through Trenton and Princeton to New-Bruns- 
wick, where my company took the steam-boat, and I 
called on elder Daniel Dodge and Dr. Livingston. Mr. 
Podge gave me a dollar, and Dr. Livingston three* 


250 


MEMOIRS OF 


The next day I embarked in the steam-boat for New- 
York and called on elder Wm. Parkerson and was 
treated kindly. The next day I met elder Johnson 
Chase in the street, very much to his surprise. He was 
an old acquaintance, and was glad to see me. He re¬ 
quested me to send my trunk to his house and make 
that my home whde I tarried in the city. He being a 
man of wealth and having no family, I readily complied 
with his invitation, although I was made welcome by 
elder Parkerson. 

Brother Chase introduced me to elders Sanford, 
Williams and Smith. They acted towards me the part 
of brethren. While here 1 had the satisfaction to fall 
in with elders Going, of Worcester, Sharp of Boston, 
and Willey of Utica. G. and S. were old acquaintances. 
They were returning from the Baptist General Conven¬ 
tion, which had been holden at Washington. They all 
invited me to call, as I was expecting to pass through 
their several towns. 

While in the city, I had the pleasure of meeting with 
three sea Captains from Kennebunk, with whom I had 
been intimately acquainted, viz. R. Patten, D. j^ason, 
and I. Ward. The last named had been one of my 
, scholars. Each of those gentlemen had the command 
of a vessel bound directly for Kennebunk Port, and 
each had the politeness to invite me to take a passage 
with them, but it had been so long since I had been on 
the sea, I was fearful I should be sea-sick. I there¬ 
fore declined accepting their kind offer. 

I took an opportunity to visit the navy-yard, directly 
opposite to which, formerly lay that dismal ship, the old 
Jersey. I passed over her remains, some of which I 
could see laying in the bottom of the East river. Her 
satellites, the hospital ships, three or four in number, had 
disappeared. The navy-yard now occupies the ground 
where thousands of the American prisoners were buried. 
The “ bank” was a high bluff of loose earth, under the 
side of which, the dead were laid, wrapped up in a ham¬ 
mock or blanket, and a little sand or earth hauled down 
upon them, was entirely removed. It caused my very 
soul to thrill when I passed over the remains of that 
wretched ship, and was approaching the shore to re- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


251 


view the awful scenes I had witnessed, and the distress¬ 
ing suffering I had there endured through a long and 
tedious winter, more than forty years ago, and where 
more than two thirds of my shipmates had laid their 
bones. I recollected to have read in the newspapers, 
that the bones of the prisoners who had died on board 
the prison ships were collected and deposited in a vault, 
and a building erected over it. I designed to indulge 
my curiosity in visiting the place, but I at once met with 
an obstruction. A sentinel forbade my proceeding fur¬ 
ther; I informed him that I wished to see the command¬ 
ing officer. The sergeant of the guard was called, and 
after a little ceremony I was permitted to enter and con¬ 
ducted to the door of his apartment. I had not been 
careful to acquaint myself with the rules of naval eti¬ 
quette. The gentleman was a stranger to me, I do not 
know that I had ascertained his name, I was equally a 
stranger to him. I told the gentleman my name; in¬ 
formed him that I had belonged to the navy and had been 
a prisoner on board the Jersey, and that being on a visit 
to the city, I had a wish to see the Wallabout, and had 
crossed the river for that purpose. He had the polite¬ 
ness to inform me what route I might take to find it, but 
did not appear half so much interested in the matter as 
I was. I found the spot; I walked round it; I survey¬ 
ed it; I pondered and wondered that my bones had not 
been scattered there long ago. I thanked and adored 
my merciful Preserver, that I was yet spared, while al¬ 
most all my shipmates had been numbered with the 
dead- 

I retired from the navy-yard without molestation; re¬ 
crossed the river and according to previous engagement, 
called on deacon J. M. Fought, who accompanied me 
to the residence of Colonel Henry Rutger and introduc¬ 
ed me to him. He received me courteously and in¬ 
formed me that he had the honor of waiting on Washing¬ 
ton and other Generals at his house. I referred to my 
visit to the Wallabout. The Colonel went into a partic¬ 
ular detail of the matter, and gave an account of the 
funeral procession on that occasion. A coffin filled with 
the remains, was carried in procession through the prin- 



252 


MEMOIRS OF 


cipal streets, and conveyed back again and deposited at 
the Wallabout. He was one of the pall-bearers. When 
I took my leave of the Colonel he gave me a check on 
the bank for ten dollars. 

While Mr. Going was in the city, he invited me to ac¬ 
company him to visit a brother, D. H. Bai nes. Mr. G. 
introduced me to Mr. B. The time passed pleasantly 
for a few minutes, for Mr. G. was in haste to take the 
steam-boat. I think he did not sit down. When we re¬ 
tired I said to B. “ Brother Barnes, I think 1 shall give 
you another call, before I leave the city.” “Well, broth¬ 
er S.” said he, “ if your object is any thing besides 
money, I shall be glad to see you, but as for money, it 
is very scarce with us.” I made no reply and accom¬ 
panied Mr. Going to the steam-boat. 

Some days after, I was walking the street with elder 
Smith; said he, “ will you call and see brother Barnes?” 
I was so much of a stranger in the city, that 1 did not 
know that we were at his door: we went in and found 
Mr. Barnes very sociable. After some time I said to 
him, u brother Barnes, how came you to intrench your¬ 
self so readily the other day, when I left you ?” After a 
moment’s hesitation, he replied, u O, I recollect, why, 
we have no ministers out of the country call upon us 
but what come for money, I therefore concluded that 
was your object.” I asked him if any one had inform¬ 
ed him what my object was. “ O no,” said he, u we 
take it for granted, that if a minister out of the country 
comes here, he is after money.” I replied that I 
had not been apprised that it was so generally the 
case. “ O yes,” said he, “ we have so many con¬ 
tributions here, on so many different occasions and 
are so frequently called upon for money, that we 
have got quite run out.” 1 handed to him a certificate 
which Dr. Rogers, and Dr. Staughton had given me, 
together with another paper, and observed to him, that 
mine was an extraordinary case and that I should indeed 
be glad to get a little money, but that I should prefer 
getting it of those who were best able to spare it. He 
declined taking the papers, saying it is of no conse¬ 
quence, brother Sherburne, for we have not the money 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


253 


to spare. I told him that he could look at the papers, 
notwithstanding. He looked over them and replied, 
“ Oh, were you one of the revolutionists, brother Sher¬ 
burne'? I did not know that, we must do something for 
you, for there are millions of us who arc now enjoying 
the fruits of the toils and sufferings of the revolutionists; 
we scarcely know what hardships are, and if any class 
of the community is deserving our particular attention, 
it is the revolutionists: we must do something for you, 
brother Sherburne.” He handed me a dollar. “ Now,” 
said he, “ brother Sherburne, if you could wear a coat 
of mine, I would give you one.” u Brother Barnes,” 
said I, u that is out of the question, I cannot get into 
your coat; but if you have one to spare, I have a son at 
home who is an invalid, he is in want of a coat and is 
not able to buy one; if you are willing to give, I will 
endeavor to convey it to him.” lie opened his draw¬ 
er and took out a coat not half worn; he then brought a 
good pair of pantaloons, a vest and a pair of shoes, alto¬ 
gether, I presume, worth more than ten dollars. 

W bile in the city 1 preached several times for Mr. 
Smith, and Parkerson, and once for Chase. 

On the ninth of June 1 left New-York for New-IIaven, 
where I called on Dr. Morse, with whom I had a partial 
acquaintance in Boston. He added his signature to the 
certificate which Dr. Rogers and Dr. Staughton gave 
me. Dr. M., professor Fitch, and several other gentle¬ 
men in N. H. contributed to my relief. 

I made a short stop in New-IIaven, being quite out of 
health. 

On the thirteenth, took the stage for Middletown. On 
the 14th I had a distressing attack of the ague, preceded 
by violent puking, while on a visit at a Mr. Roberts, a 
little out of the city. While returning to the city I met 
elder James A. Boswell, and Mr. Amos Bickwith, with 
whom Mr. Boswell boarded. They had heard of me, and 
w ere in search for me. I wmnt home with them and in¬ 
formed them that as I had had one severe fit of ague, I 
was apprehensive I should have more. I had been 
threatened with this trying complaint while in Ilarris- 
burgh, and more severely for several days while in the 


254 


MEMOIRS OF 


city of N. York. It was decided upon that I should make 
my home at Mr. Bickwith’s. He with his lady were 
members of the Baptist church. I was now seven hun¬ 
dred miles from my family, and three hundred from Ken- 
nebunk port. I was confined to the house the next day, 
and on the third, which was Sunday, I had another dis¬ 
tressing fit of the ague, attended with delirium. About 
the twentieth of June, Dr. Cone was called. He is a 
respectable physician, and a gentleman in his deport¬ 
ment. At this time I was exceedingly distressed with 
hiccough. Soon after this the ague subsided. 

Chi the 24th of June I was much distressed with hic¬ 
cough again, which increased to an alarming degree:— 
my stomach was extremely convulsed, and I could retain 
nothing which I swallowed. My friends were much 
alarmed. The next day Dr. Cone brought Dr. Miner 
to see me. For several days I seemed convalescent, but 
on the first of July, I was attacked with the typhus fever. 
Until this time, Mrs. Prout, Mrs. Bickwith’s mother, had 
paid particular attention to me; she now became so much 
indisposed, that they were under the necessity of pro¬ 
curing a Mrs. Susan Stillman to attend on me. 

Dr. Cone visited and prescribed for me twice a day, 
gratuitously, for several weeks. For several days he 
had but little hopes ofmy recovery. I was among stran¬ 
gers; but surrounded by friends. For two or three weeks 
X was obliged to have watchers, and the citizens were 
very kind in attending on me. The Baptist church made 
two contributions for me, and a number of the brethren 
made me private donations. Mr. E. Bounds and his 
lady were particularly attentive, and supplied me with 
various necessaries. I am under especial obligations to 
Mr. Bradley. Mrs. Prout, Mr. Bickvvith and his lady, 
as well as Mrs. Stillman, were indefatigable in their ex¬ 
ertions for my relief and comfort. 

I began to recover about the 15th of July, and on the 
20th finished a letter to my wife, which I had commen¬ 
ced on the 16th of June. On the 30th of July, I put on 
my clothes for the first time in four weeks, and elder 
Boswell took me in his gig round one square. The next 
day he took me to his own house. He told me that he 



ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


255 


had made arrangements to bury me. On the second of 
August, he carried me to elder Enoch Green’s, about 
two miles from the city, where I spent two days. His 
family were particularly attentive to me, while I was con¬ 
fined. When I left this good man, he presented me with 
two dollars. 

I have since been informed that elder Green, his ami¬ 
able consort, and one or more of their children, have paid 
the debt of nature:—“And their works do follow them.” 

On the oth of August, brother Bound very obligingly 
took me in his carriage, and drove carefully to Weathers- 
field, and left me with elder W. Bentley, who treated me 
with attention, and the next day took me to Hartford, 
and lodged me with deacon I. B. Gilbert. He and his 
lady paid particular attention to me, aud liberally bestow¬ 
ed on me their charities. I called on elder Cushman, 
who certified my credentials to be satisfactory. The Rev. 
I. Hawes manifested his sympathy, gave me a dollar, 
and recommended me to the attention of his friends. I 
am under especial obligations to a number of brethren 
and other gentlemen in Hartford. 

On the 13th of August, brother Gurdon Rabins took 
me in a gig to Colchester, and lodged me with a Mr. 
Turner. I was treated with marked attention, by this 
family. I called on the Rev. Mr. Cone, the father of 
my much esteemed friend, Dr. Cone of Middletown.— 
Mrs. C. treated me affectionately. 

On the 16th I took the stage for New-London, and 
put up with brother Turner, where elder Loomis board¬ 
ed: here I was kindly entertained. On Monday, the 
18th, I took passage to Norwich, in a packet boat, and 
brother Loomis paid my passage to Norwich. I was in 
haste to get on, and on the 21st I took the stage to Prov¬ 
idence, where I had especial attention paid to me by Dr. 
Gano, with whom I had some personal acquaintance. 
He treated me like a brother. On the Lord’s day, the 
24th, in the evening, I preached for Dr. G. in his con¬ 
ference room. At the close of the meeting, the Dr. ob¬ 
served to his congregation, that having recently called 
frequently on them for contributions on different occa¬ 
sions, he had resolved not to ask again for a contribution 


2 5C> 


MEMOIRS OF 


on any occasion for the present, and that he should ad¬ 
here to his purpose; but having had an account of my 
revolutionary sufferings and recent misfortunes, and hav¬ 
ing been a sufferer himself in the revolution, he felt an 
especial interest in my case. He would therefore recom¬ 
mend me to their attention; and observed that if any 
were disposed to bestow any thing upon me, they might 
bring it forward. They gave me about ten dollars. Mr. 
John Snow, with whom 1 had been acquainted in Ohio, 
introduced me to his father, (an old revolutionist,) and 
to a number of other gentlemen, whose benevolence I 
experienced. 

I hastened to Boston, expecting to find a letter from 
my wife, whose last communication I received in New- 
York, dated the 12th of May. On my arrival at Boston, 
I found myself at home, at Dr. Baldwin’s. My first bus¬ 
iness was to visit the Post-office, where I found a letter 
from my wife, in answer to mine from Middletown, in¬ 
forming me that my dear Willshire had been sick 
through the summer with the ague. That a large num¬ 
ber of my acquaintance were no more, and that it was 
unusually sick in Columbus. I had been from my fam¬ 
ily seven months, and was not yet to my journey’s end 
by more than a hundred miles. I was desirous once 
more to see my aged mother and only surviving sister, 
and other eastern friends, and extremely anxious to get 
home. 

In Boston I fell in with Capt. Luther Walker, who 
married my adopted daughter, who was now no more. 
He was about to sail for Kennebunk port; I went on in 
the stage, and found him there. 

Here I found my old friends very glad to see me, and 
very much devoted to me, but none more so than my son- 
in-law, Capt. W. He took me in his gig to Baldwin, 
about forty miles, to see iny brother Ingalls and family, 
with whom my aged mother lived. 1 had become so 
anxious to get home, that I could allow myself to make 
but a short visit I spent too Sabbaths in this quarter, 
preached twice at my old meeting-house, twice at the 
Port, and once for cider Locke, and once for elder Rob¬ 
erts. I received generous contributions and donations. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


257 


On the 23d of September, I took the stage for Ports¬ 
mouth, where I received some assistance from Mr. I. 
Cutter, and several other gentlemen, and soon after call¬ 
ed on Dr. Bowles. 

I found him very friendly and affectionate; we had 
been formerly acquainted with each other. He present¬ 
ed me with about twelve dollars, part of which was col¬ 
lected from his friends. I hastened to Boston, where at 
the stage tavern, I fell in with several merchants and 
ship-masters from Kennebunk, who generously contrib¬ 
uted to my assistance. Under my peculiar circumstan¬ 
ces, and those of my far distant family, I was daily ad¬ 
monished of the kindness of God in raising up friends to 
furnish me with means to remove my family from a coun¬ 
try which was so unpropitious to our health. However 
it may appear to others, I cannot deny myself the grat¬ 
ification of noticing with what cordiality I was received 
by elders Baldwin and Sharp, and by brethren Ensign 
and Heman Lincoln and others. Their sympathy to¬ 
ward me was not in word only, but in deed and truth. 

I could make but a short stay in Boston; preached 
once to brother Sharp’s people, and was in haste to get 
to Albany, where I expected to receive a letter from my 
wife. My Boston friends and I parted with no expecta¬ 
tion of meeting again in time. Brother H. Lincoln af¬ 
fectionately accompanied me to the stage. I being fee¬ 
ble he assisted me to get in, and took his farewell, not 
however, until he had farther extended to me his boun¬ 
ty. “ It is more blessed to give, than to receive.” 

At Worcester, I had but just time to call on brethren 
Going and Goddard, and continued my journey toward 
Albany. I had the agreeable company of a Dr. Lyman 
of Troy for a considerable distance. We were the only 
passengers in the stage. I am compelled to enroll this 
gentlemen, as well as the two last mentioned, among the 
list of my benefactors. At Albany, where I arrived on 
Saturday evening, I was courteously received and enter¬ 
tained by elder L. Leonard, and deacon J. A. Burk. On 
the Sabbath, I preached once to Mr. L.’s people. Elder 
C. Philleo was at Albany at this time, and I having ac¬ 
quainted -him, Mr. L. and others, with some of my histo- 


258 


MEMOIRS OF 


ry in the state of Ohio, and having just received a letter 
from my wife, informing me of the mortality in Colum¬ 
bus, and that she had had a severe attack of the prevail¬ 
ing fever; they advised me by all means to remove my 
family from Ohio, to Vernon, in the county of Onedia 
and state of New-York, where Mr. Philleo resided. 1 
was resolved to adhere to this counsel and took the stage 
for Utica, and from thence by the packet boat to .Roch¬ 
ester, thence I travelled by land to Buffalo. I then took 
the steam boat for Sandusky bay, from thence 1 went up 
the Sandusky river in a horse-boat, and took my passage 
about one hundred miles in wagons to Columbus, where 
I arrived on the 25th of October. Here, by the abound¬ 
ing mercy of a gracious God, I found my family in tol¬ 
erable health, after an absence of nine months, in which 
time both they and myself had passed through very great 
distresses. In thirty-three days 1 travelled more than a 
thousand miles’; I was resolved to leave the state of 
Ohio. I had occasion to visit Ripley, about one hun¬ 
dred miles south, and had engaged a team to take me 
on to New York as soon as I should return. In my long 
and tedious journeys, the Lord had raised up friends to 
furnish me with about three hundred and fifty dollars. 
I paid my house rent, doctor’s bill and other debts, and 
about the middle of November, set off for Vernon in the 
county of Oneida, in the state of New-York, and after 
journeying with rny family thirty-one days, and laying by 
about thirty-three days, arrived at Vernon on the 21st 
day of January, 1824. My body and mind had both be¬ 
come so impaired, that I had abandoned the idea of ever 
taking the pastoral charge of a church again. I bought 
a small lot of land, consisting of three acres, on which 
there was a small house, in the adjoining town of Augus¬ 
ta, to which I removed my family on the day I entered 
the sixtieth year of my life; on the day I closed my six¬ 
tieth year, 1 commenced writing this little volume, but 
my wife had been so much out of health, and being un¬ 
der many embarrassments, that at the expiration of the 
year, I had not finished one sheet. On the sixth day of 
January, 1826, my first daughter was born, whose name 
we call Mary Jane. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


259 


As I am far removed from my connexions, as they 
may know nothing of my children, except what they learn 
from this narrative, and as I have named all but the 
youngest daughter, I am willing to indulge the usual 
weaknesses of aged parents, by observing that she was 
born August 24th, 1827. To her we gave the name of 
Eliza Ann. 

On the first of February, 1S26,1 set out on a journey 
to the state of Ohio, a distance of seven hundred miles. 
On my way I visited Columbus, Ripley, Cincinnati and 
Batavia, and had a pleasant interview with many of my 
friends. In this journey, I fractured my left shoulder by 
a fall from my horse. A few months after my return, 

I had the misfortune to fracture my right shoulder, by 
a fall from a wagon. One principal inducement in ta¬ 
king the journey to Ohio, was to sell the village lots in 
Batavia, of which I have before spoken. That place 
has now become the seat of justice for the county, In 
this, however, 1 could not succeed to my satisfaction, 
and as I could not sell them without a great sacrifice, I 
made provision for the payment of subsequent taxes, 
and concluded to let them remain unsold. I was told 
that the taxes were all paid up to the year 1826. I left 
money with Mr. Joseph Grant to pay the tax that should 
next become duej and engaged a person against whom 
I had a demand, to remit money to Mr. G. to pay the 
subsequent taxes. We considered Mr. G. as our agent, 
although he was not formally authorized to act. Shortly 
after my return fiom Ohio, I wrote to Mr. Grant, that if 
he could sell the lots to advantage, we would forward to 
him a power for that purpose, and wished him to write. 
' Mr. G. mislaid the letter, and had forgotten the place 
where we lived. But after about one year, he found the 
letter and answered it. The following is an extract 
from his letter, which was dated 

Batavia, O. July 24, 1827. 

(i The business of most interest to you, I have to com¬ 
municate, is in regard to your lots. You will recollect 
that when you were here last, you left me a dollar for 
the purpose of paying the taxes which I did for the year 
1826. But I was not aware that the taxes for 1825 had 


260 


MEMOIRS OF 


not been paid. In consequence of that delinquency, 
your lots have been sold, and purchased by Thomas 
Morris, Esq. and his son for the taxes due that year.’ 7 

Having received this information, I wrote to the post¬ 
master at Batavia, presuming he was an acquaintance 
of mine, and wished him to inform me who was the 
county auditor, &,c. I waited long and received no an¬ 
swer. I then wrote to a friend in the vicinity of Batavia, 
waited and still received no answer. 

I then wrote to Judge Moore before named, a gentle¬ 
man of the strictest veracity, and requested him to at¬ 
tend to our business. Mr. C. A. Campbell, the post¬ 
master at Ripley being an acquaintance, I wrote him at 
the same time, requesting fhim to inform me whether 
Moore’s letter had reached that office. 

Mr. Campbell had the politeness to pay a punctual 
attention to my request, and wrote me under the date of 

June 16th, 1826. 

u Dear Sir—By this day’s mail I received your let¬ 
ter of the 29th ult. In reply to the information request¬ 
ed, I have to say, our worthy and excellent friend, Jo¬ 
seph Moore, has paid the last great debt of nature.” 

I may with propriety say there was no man in the 
state of Ohio, to whom I was under greater obligations 
for various acts of kindness than deacon J. Moore. 
When I recollect the vast number of my friends who 
have <c gone the way of all the earth,” I may properiy 
say to myself, “ be thou also ready.” 

In view of what I have already related, together with 
many other circumstances attendant on my emigration 
from the east, there seems to be a kind of fatality attend¬ 
ing my enterprises in the west. 

I have too much confidence, however in Mr. Morris 
and his son, to indulge the thought that they will take 
any undue advantage of my misfortunes. 

I must now bring my little narrative to a close. It 
has already been drawn out to a greater length than I 
had anticipated at its commencement. My life, though 
much diversified, has been marked by great and unde¬ 
served mercy from God; and in view of this fact, I can¬ 
not express my feelings more properly than in the fol¬ 
lowing lines, composed by an unknown author. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


•2G1 


BIRTH DAY. 

Great God! thy goodness let me sing, 

On this my natal day, 

From thee what joys, what pleasures spring 
My grateful soul survey. 

When in the days of other years, 

The storms of wo assail'd 

My wand’ring bark—then o’er my fears 
Thy promises prevail’d. 

The stranger’s fate, in foreign lands, 

In early youth was mine: 

Around me then, to raise up friends, 

The heav’nly work w as thine. 

When wreck’d on ocean’s raging wave, 

No ray of hope there came, 

Thy matchless arm was stretch’d to save, 

' And shield my sinking frame! 

The stormy cape w as bleak and bare, 

No verdure smiled around 

The desert shore—yet even there 
Thy watchful hand I found! 

Snatch’d from the overwhelming flood, 

To light, to life restor’d; 

How leap’d my heart to thee, my God, 

Thy providence ador’d! 

And since through pain or peril’s hour, 

Thy hand has led my way, 

Forsake me not, all-gracious Powder, 

On this my natal day! 

O! spare me yet to praise thy name 
With gratitude andjoy; 

My God thy goodness to proclaim, 

My heart, my tongue employ. 

Still let my life, serenely gay, 

Through future changes prove, 

Be every thorn that checks my way. 

Made harmless by thy love. 

And when the shades of death impend. 

The gloomy grave in view; 

Be thou my solace—thou my friend— 

My God forever true! H. H, Jr. 

END OF THE FIRST EDITION. 


262 


MEMOIRS OF 


MEMOIRS CONTINUED. 

CHAPTER XII. 

He commences selling his hooks in the county of Oneida 
— Utica — Albany — Troy — New- York — District of 
Columbia—Fredericksburg in Va. — Richmond — Pe¬ 
tersburg — Norfolk — Portsmouth — Williamsburg — 
" Baltimore — Philadelphia—Returns home—Journeys 
East , through Vermont and New-Hampshire t to 
Maine—Returns home—Visits Ohio and returns home 
— ills daughters death—Visits Ncic-York — Provi¬ 
dence — Pawtucket — Boston—Returns to Providence. 

Having nearly completed my manuscript for my first 
edition, I conceived it expedient that I should have the 
judgment of some literary gentlemen upon it, for I had 
not the vanity to suppose that I was a proper judge of 
its merits. 

I requested Alexander M. Beebe, Esq. editor of the 
New-York Baptist Register, to examine it. Having 
read a number of sheets, he encouraged its publication. 
I also put it into the hands of the Rev. A. Mc’Kay, of 
New-York, for examination. He gave it his approba¬ 
tion and observed that it was just what the young Amer¬ 
icans ought to read. He said that we had the history of 
the Revolution on the great scale, but that we had few 
of the details.—I shewed it to the Rev. Mr. Parkerson: 
he disapproved of its publication, from the impression 
that I should lose money by it; but after he had read a 
part of the manuscript, he gave his cordial approbation. 
As the Rev. Spencer PI. Cone was considered a gen¬ 
tleman of refined taste, and had once been the editor of 
a newspaper, I wished to obtain his opinion also. He 
had the kindness with Mr. Parkerson, to give me his 
signature. I then came to the conclusion to publish it 
it I could, notwithstanding I was entirely destitute of 
funds. 

I had some encouragement from Enos Nichols, Esq. 
of Kirkland, and from Gen. J. J. Knox of Augusta, 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


263 


that they would assist me in getting it through the press. 
In that case they would incur some risk, as I was al¬ 
ready near 200 dollars in debt. Col. Wm. Williams 
of Utica offered to print it for me, provided Gen. Knox 
would become responsible for half the sum, in easel 
might fail, provided I would give my personal attention 
to the sale of the books. To this Gen. Knox agreed, and 
I commenced selling my books in Sept. 1828, and hav¬ 
ing sold near two or three hundred in Augusta and the 
adjacent country, I went to Utica, where I was liber¬ 
ally patronised, and had some flattering compliments 
paid me by gentlemen of distinction. In Nov. I set out 
for Albany and had good success in disposing of books 
in Sangersfield and Cherry-Valley. I journeyed with 
my horse and small wagon; but 1 found it pecessary to 
take my horse and wagon home again, and travel by 
stage. On my arrival home, I found my wife confined 
to her bed with the rheumatism. 1 remained with my 
family just a week. My wife did not sit up an hour in 
the time. It was extremely unpleasant to leave my 
family at this season of the year, with a view not to re¬ 
turn for six or eight months. The undertaking was an 
adventurous one at first, and especially in view of my 
limited education and advanced age. But I could con¬ 
ceive of no better prospects to procure a subsistence for 
myself and family, and in this business every thing de¬ 
pended on my health and ability to travel. There wer§ 
debts of more than a thousand dollars standing against 
me, and all that I possessed, a.side from my books, would 
not raise half the money. Trying, however, as our 
circumstances were, we must be separated; four of my 
children being yet under twelve years of age and two of 
them under four. Every person of candor and sensibil¬ 
ity will acknowledge that it is no small privation for an 
old man to turn his back on his family and fire-side, at 
this season of the year. It was about the middle of De¬ 
cember: I endeavored tocommend my afflicted wife and 
dear children, together with my own soul, to God, and 
took my departure for Utica, where I took the stage for 
Albany. Trying as my situation was, it was vastly pre¬ 
ferable, to being exposed to cannon balls and bombs, 


MEMOIRS OF 


264 

day and night, for weeks together, or being exposed in 
gales of wind at sea, when almost every w ave w ould 
seem to threaten destruction—or despairing of deliver¬ 
ance on a wreck, or starvation in a wilderness, or suffer¬ 
ing hunger in a loathsome prison-ship. From all those 
scenes of sorrow, God has delivered me; surely there 
can be no mortal in existence who is under greater ob¬ 
ligations to be humble and to render thanksgiving and 
praise to God than myself. After all, I have yet the 
debt to pay, for it is appointed to man once to die. 

While in Albany there were several days so extreme¬ 
ly cold that I thought it imprudent to go out. Several 
gentlemen of distinction bought books of me, and hav¬ 
ing read them, were disposed to say that they were very 
interesting. I had the satisfaction to sell one to Mr. 
Kidney, who with the exception of David Warren, Esq. i 
of Verona, w’as the only person 1 had found who had 
suffered on board the Jersey. He was not poor enough 
to get a pension.—By his own industry he had acquired 
a handsome estate. He was by occupation a black- l 
smith, but not of that description w r ho have an unquench- i 
able spark in the throat. Mr. Kidney drinks neither ] 
wine or strong drink, nor even strong beer or cider. I 1 
very much regret that I had not while in the company 
of those gentleman, furnished myself with some more] 
authentic details relative to their sufferings while on 
board the Jersey. 

I had no expectation at that time however, of publish- j 
ing a second edition. 

I sold about a hundred and fifty books in Albany, and 
twenty in Troy. I feel myself under especial obliga- * 
tions to the Baptist preachers and brethren in Albany 
and Troy, who purchased my books. My patronage, \ 
however, was by no means confined to the Baptist, or j 
any other denomination. Elder Welch gave notice to 
his congregation, that a relict of the Revolution would 
preach to them in the afternoon, which circumstance 
facilitated the sale of my books. 

About the middle of Jan. 18^9, I took the stage for . 
New-York, with a view of spending several weeks there. 

T was cordially received and hospitably entertained by 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


Q65 


Mr. D. I jewis and lady, members of the Baptist church, 
whose frank and generous friendship had more than once 
consoled me in my previous trials. They even insisted 
on my making their house my home, while I abode in 
the city. This circumstance was consoling to an old 
man who was far from his family. 

It excites astonishment when my memory brings 
again to view the numerous friends, which God in his 
gracious providence, has raised up for me among stran¬ 
gers. Surely goodness and mercy have followed me 
all my days. Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not 
all his benefits. 

At the close of a conference meeting of the Oliver-street 
church,the Rev. Mr. C. recommendedmy bookstothe at¬ 
tention of his congregation, who very liberally patroniz¬ 
ed me. The Rev. Mr. Parkerson and the Rev. Mr. 
Dunbar also assisted me with their influence. After I 
had been selling my books several days in the city, I 
was frequently met by gentlemen who had bought and 
read them, who readily recognizing me, were disposed 
to present me some polite and familiar compliments; and 
as I proceeded, instances of this kind multiplied; but 
my time being invaluable, I could not indulge either 
them or myself with but very short interviews, as my 
success depended on my own personal patience and 
perseverance. I sold in the city ten, fifteen, and some¬ 
times more than twenty in a day. This was doing 

I great business for me, and rapidly facilitated the dis¬ 
charge of the heavy debt I had contracted for printing; 
and this object rnust.be accomplished before I could re¬ 
alize any real benefit to my family. At the close of the 
day I was generally so fatigued by walking and talk¬ 
ing that I was quite dispirited, and fearful that I should 
never accomplish my object. My own judgment as 
well as the sacred scriptures have long since taught me 
that despondency is neither a virtue nor a grace. Who 
will presume to reverse the declaration, that it is through 
much tribulation we are to enter into the kingdom? And 
that “ man who is born of a woman is of few days and 
full of trouble .” Therefore the only encouragement 
for a feeble mortal is, that there is a throne of grace, 
23 




266 


MEMOIRS OF 


to which he may fly for refuge to lay hold of the hope 
set before him. O the condescension of the eternal 
God, to permit feeble, polluted mortals, whose breath is 
in their nostrils, to approach his sacred presence, and 
talk with him as a man talketh with his friend. These 
considerations have tranquilized my mind, and encour¬ 
aged me to “ endure as seeing him who is invisible.” 

While disposing of my books in the city, Capt. Benj. 
Bailey was frequently spoken of by the citizens as having 
been a prisoner on board the Jersey. I called on him, 
and was treated with marked attention, both by himself 
and lady. He bought two of my books and had the 
politeness to introduce me to the Hon. R. Riker, the 
Recorder, to Gen. Morton, Dr. Graves and others, near 
the City Hall, who took books of me. 1 called at the 
Custom-house, under the impression that I should cer¬ 
tainly sell a few there. I observed to the gentlemen, 
that I had called to offer them a little book, in which l 
had told the story of my own conflicts in the revolution, 
and particularly on board the Jersey prison ship. 

An old gentleman raised his voice and replied , u Books, 
this is no place to sell books; this is a public office.” 
I replied that I was aware of that, and presumed that 
he was in public employ, and that he got his pay for his 
services; that I had been in public service myself, and 
had never got my pay for my services, and that I should 
like to sell him a book. “ We want none of your books,” 
said he. He seemed so unpleasant, that I had no wish 
to trouble him with my presence, and retired with inten¬ 
tion to try in the next room, which was an insurance 
office, and addressed myself to an old gentleman, as 
before. He shoved up his spectacles and replied with 
emphasis, “ Were you on board the Jersey prison ship?” 
I replied that I was. “ Oh! then I will buy one of your 
books,” said he, “ I know what you had to suffer there. 
I was the clerk of the commissary, who was sent into 
the city at that time, to pay some attention to the suffer¬ 
ings of the prisoners; I will buy a book of you.” The 
old gentleman addressed himself to another gentleman 
present, saying, “ Won’t you buy a book of him? the old 
gentleman has had a hard time of it, no doubt.” The 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


267 


gentleman consented. “Now,” said he, “I will buy 
one for my grandson,” a lad in the office, probably fif¬ 
teen years of age. “Here” said he, “read this, my boy, 
that you may see what your rights cost.” “ Really, Sir,” 
said I, “ I meet with a very different reception from 
what I did in the Custom-house,” and recited to him the 
circumstance. “ Ah, Mr. Sherburne,” said he, “ you 
will find many of the Americans that don’t know, nor 
don’t want to know, what their rights cost. There 
is a great difference between a man’s getting an estate, 
and a man’s heiring an estate.” 

This old patriot was Mr. John Pintard. I do not 
know, nor do I wish to know, the name of the man in 
the custom-house; I however do not believe that it was 
the custom-house officer. 

On the 18th of February, 1829,1 went on board the 
steam-boat, and from thence took the stage to Philadel¬ 
phia, and so on to Baltimore, and called on my good 
brother Joseph France and his lady, whose hospitality I 
had enjoyed six years before, when returning in poor 
health from Ohio. While in Baltimore, there came a 
violent snow storm, which detained me there two days. 
I then took the stage for Washington, and was cour¬ 
teously entertained by Rev. O. B. Brown and lady. My 
box of books, which I had ordered for Washington, were 
frozen up in Albany. 1 had therefore to send to Balti¬ 
more for the books I had designed for that place. I 
spent about three weeks in Washington and Georgetown, 
and preached several times for Mr. Brown’s people, 
visited the college, sold books to several of the students, 
had an interesting interview with Drs. Chapin aad Sem¬ 
ple. T also called on President Adams, who gave me 
two dollars for a book. 

I had not designed to have gone any further south, but 
Ur. Semple and elder Brown advised me to go into 
Virginia. I wished the Doctor to give me a letter to 
some brother in Portsmouth or Norfolk and he gave me 
the following letter to Dr. Joseph Schoolfield, of Ports¬ 
mouth. 

11 Col. Hill , March 23, 1829. 

Brother Schoolfield, 

Dear Sir— The bearer, elder Andrew Sherburne, 


268 


MEMOIRS OF 


has been among us for some time, has acquired the re¬ 
gard of all his acquaintance as a good man. He is 
an old revolutionary sufferer, and at that trying crisis, 
passed through many perilous and trying scenes, which 
he has thought worthy of remembrance—has according¬ 
ly written his own memoirs; his object in travelling is 
to sell his books. I have bought and read one of them, 
and really can recommend it as amusing and quite in¬ 
teresting. He wishes me to introduce him to your ac¬ 
quaintance, and that of the other brethren of Norfolk 
and Portsmouth. Any attention you may show our old 
friend and brother, will I think be acceptable to God 
and acknowledged by yours, &c. 

R.B. SEMPLE. 

P. S. As I have not time to write to any others—will 
you read this and hand it back to him for the inspection 
of as many as he may wish to shew it to. R. B. S.” 

I visited Alexandria, with a letter from the 
Rev. O. B. Brown to Rev. Samuel Cornelius. He 
had just received a pressing letter from the Baptist 
church at Chopawamsic, to preach for them the follow¬ 
ing Sabbath; but he was otherwise engaged, and could 
not; he requested me to serve them. I consented and 
descended the Potomac about twenty miles, in the 
steam-boat, and found a brother Rubleman waiting 
lor me with a gig; he took me to his own house at 
Dumfries; in the evening I preached in the Court-House; 
next day he took me to Chopawamsic, to their church 
meeting, and I was hospitably entertained at the house 
where the Rev. John Leland used to preach forty years 
ago. On Lord’s day, I preached and broke bread to the 
church; returned to Dumfries, preached in the Court, 
House again and returned to Washington to wind up 
my concerns there, took an affectionate farewell of broth¬ 
er Davis and his lady, at the navy yard; and. of brother 
Cooper and his lady and also of a brother Gater and 
lady. I had been courteously entertained in these fam¬ 
ilies, as well as at brother Brown’s. Mrs. Gater having 
read my book, had the kindness to send each of my lit¬ 
tle girls a silver thimble. 

I returned to Alexandria, Yir. with an intention to 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


269 


take lodgings at a boarding house, but brother and sis¬ 
ter Cornelius would not agree to it. They insisted that 
I should make myself at home at their house. 

As soon as my books came on, brother Cornelius went 
round with me, and called on whom he pleased, and I 
made rapid progress in selling my books; and being 
called away, he called upon a brother I. P. Colman to 
wait on me. Sister Cornelius in addition to other favors 
sent a dollar to each of my little girls. On leaving Al¬ 
exandria, brother Cornelius furnished me with the fol¬ 
lowing letter. 

u Alexandria , 1). C. March 26, 1829. 
Mr. Robert B. Fife, Fredericksburg. 

Dear Brother— This will be handed you by our 
aged and venerable brother, Rev. Andrew Sherburne. 
Besides the love which I feel for him as an aged Christ¬ 
ian and preacher of righteousness, he prefers anoth¬ 
er and an irresistible claim to my confidence and re¬ 
gard. He lived and acted and suffered in “ the times 
that tried men’s souls.” 

The incidents of his life, during the war of the Rev¬ 
olution and since, have appeared to his friends, and to 
himself, worthy of being perpetuated in the memory of 
Americans, and he has therefore written a memoir of 
himself, which I have read with satisfaction. 

The leading object of his visit to the South is to dis¬ 
pose of his books; upon the profits of which he relies 
for supporting his family. I am persuaded you will take 
pleasure in rendering any service in your power, and in 
doing so you will add another reason to the many which 
I have already to subscribe myself, 

Your obliged brother, 

S. CORNELIUS. 

P. S. As I shall not be able to write to the numerous 
friends, to which it would give me pleasure to introduce 
our friend, be kind enough to return him this as a gen¬ 
eral introduction. S. CORNELIUS.” 

Brother Cornelius observed to me, that the Virginian 
brethren would not approve of my putting up at a public 
house, that they expected travelling brethren to call on 
them. 23* 


270 


MEMOIRS OF 


On the 28th of March, I left Alexandria in the steam¬ 
boat, and descended the Potomac, had the satisfaction 
of Dr. J. S. Jackson’s company, who was Mrs. Brown’s 
son by her first husband; I had formed a pleasant ac¬ 
quaintance with him at elder Brown’s, at Washington. I 
had the satisfaction to pass in view of the celebrated 
Mount Vernon, and landed within nine miles of Freder¬ 
icksburg, and went on to Fredericksburg in the stage 
in the night, the travelling exceeding bad. Dr. Semple 
supplied the Baptist church a part 6f the time. I was at 
home at Mr. Alexander Walker’s, who was a member of 
the Baptist church. I was an entire stranger; yet the 
before mentionedletiers were a sufficint recommendation. 
I must, however, conform to the customs of the country. 
The Baptists were disappointed of their preacher that 
day, a*id it was proposed that I should preach for them. 
Brother Walker, his lady, and their children were as 
much devoted to me as I could wish. I had occasion to 
go to the stage-office, where I had left my baggage; Mr. 
Walker proposed that I should take a boy as a waiter. I 
observed to him I hat there was no occasion; that I could 
bring in a handkerchief all that I should need. “O! take 
a boy, take a boy,” said he; I made no more objections, 
and being among Virginians, would do as Virginians do. 
I went to the stage-office, followed by a colored lad about 
sixteen, and having a boy, I thought he might as well 
take a small trunk as a bundle; and on my return met 
Mr. Walker in his front door, and a young colored man 
at his elbow. The lad was directed to take my trunk 
into a chamber; he was followed by Mr. Walker and my¬ 
self, and we were followed by the other black man. Having 
entered the chamber, (all in style,) said Mr. Walker, 
“here brother Sherburne is where we put our ministers, 
when they come to see us, and here is a boy (viz. a 
young man) to wait on you; if you want any thing, just 
ring the bell and he will come to you.” A prince could 
not need more superb accommodations than I then had. 
In taking a retrospective view of the stations, quarters, and 
different habitations I had occupied in the space of half 
a century, I could not recollect that I had ever been ac- 
acmmodated in such princely style before. There wer* 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


271 


indeed, unnumbered instances in New-England where I 
had been accommodated with a chamber of the highest 
style, with every necessary accommodation. But never 
before had I Toney, Cutfy, or Pompey to make a fire 
for me before I was up—clean my boots—provide hbt 
water for shaving, and even shaving (if requested,) and 
brush and adjust my coat, &c. &c. 

Having at this place all the conveniences for writing, 
it was a favorable opportunity to communicate to my wife 
the progress I had made, and the princely state to which 
I had arrived. A thought from Foster’s Essay gave me 
a jog. I recollected that in his Esssay upon “A man’s wri¬ 
ting memoirs of himself,” he gives an idea something like 
the following. “There are but few men who have lived 
fifty or sixty years, who, if they were to narrate the more 
striking events of divine providence as it respects them¬ 
selves, but it would be interesting.” He did not mean, 
however, that he should tell us what color every coat had 
been that he had worn in the time. I do not wish either 
to disgust, or even tire my readers by being too minute. 
I will therfore promise, that if they will bear with me in 
this instance, I will in future endeavor not to offend. 

I preached three times for the Baptists on the Sabbath. 
In the evening I was recognized while speaking by a 
Mr. Perkins, formerly of Kennebunk port. Early on 
Monday my servant informed me that there was a gentle¬ 
man in the drawing-room who wished to see me. I had no 
expectation that l should find any one in this remote re¬ 
gion who knew any thing of me. I entered the drawing¬ 
room; Mr. Walker very politely introduced Mr. P. to 
me, who seemed really elated to see me; made some a- 
pology for calling so early; observed that he had not seen 
me for fifteen years; presumed that I had no recollection 
of him, as he was about fifteen when he left Kennebunk 
port. It was pleasant to ascertain that this young gen¬ 
tleman (whose parents I well knew,) was of good-char¬ 
acter, and in good business. 

By the assistance of Mr. Walker, and Mr. P. I sold 
about sixty of my books in three days, and then went on 
to Richmond, the seat of government, on the James riv¬ 
er. I called on Mr. Richard C. Wortham, of the Bap- 


272 


MEMOIRS OF 


tist church, a very affectionate brother, who has an ami¬ 
able lady; his aged and pious mother lived with him; his 
eldest son Albert, was at the university. My accommo¬ 
dations here were the same as at Fredericksburg. I was 
introduced to Rev. John Kerr, of the first Baptist church, 
Rev. James Taylor of the 2d church, and Rev. Mr. 
Keeling, editor of the Recorder. Deacon Archibald 
Thomas insisted that I should make his house my home 
a part of the time, which I did, and found his lady a very 
interesting Christian. As I spent four weeks in the city, 
I preached several times for Messrs. Carr and Taylor, 
and preached several lectures in private houses. I had 
particular attention paid me by Messrs. William and 
.James Crane. 

In all my travels in Virginia, I found none who to me 
appeared more devotional than sister Carr, the wife of 
Rev. J. Carr; her very impressive request that 1 should 
pray for her and hers, has very often come fresh to my 
mind, and although absent from each other in body, I 
trust that we have been sometimes present, in the spirit, 
before the throne of God. On leaving Richmond for 
Petersburg, brother Kerr gave me the following letter. 
“to whom it may concern. 

“We have had the pleasure of the Rev. Andrew Sher¬ 
burne’s company in this city some weeks. He has 
preached and prayed with us. lie came to us highly rec¬ 
ommended; but our esteem for him has been greatly 
heightened by a personal knowledge of his well regulated 
piety as a Christian, his modesty as a man, and his practic¬ 
al sense as a minister of Jesus Christ. His life has been 
marked with toil and sufferings for his country, and his 
God. He carries with him a brief and unvarnished his¬ 
tory of his own life, written by himself. I have read it 
with much interest and pleasure, and believe it well cal¬ 
culated to do good. The friend of liberty, of piety, and 
of man, who has a dollar to spare will do well by giving 
it for such a book, to such a man. 

JOHN KERR, 

Pastor of the \st Baptist church in the city of 
Richmond , Va. 

2d May, 1829.” 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


273 


On 2nd of May, 1829, I left Richmond in the stage 
for Petersburg, (about twenty miles south of Richmond,) 
once the residence of Pocahontas. In the stage I had 
j some pleasant acquaintance with Hon. Samuel Winfree, 
"'ho had been Mayor of the borough. He bought a 
book of me before he left the stage, and the next morn¬ 
ing he sent and bought another. 

I was hospitably entertained by brother Martin Ea- 
: ton, and brother Charles Loomis, who was formerly of 
the Baptist church in Hartford, Ct. 1 spent a week in 
this place, and preached several lectures. My book was 
generously patronized. On the 10th, I preached for the 
Baptist church and broke bread for them; and on Mon¬ 
day, having had opportunity to see Pocahontas’ wash- * 
basin, an excavation in a large loose stone, three or four 
feet iikdiampter, I returned to Richmond; spent a day 
or two with my good friends, took passage in a steam¬ 
boat for Norfolk, and put up in Virginia style with Rev. 
Jeremiah Hendren, with whom Rev. R. Howell, the 
pastor of the Baptist church, boarded. I made my home 
chiefly with a brother Jonathan Ridley. 

On the 15th, I crossed the ferry to Portsmouth, and 
called on Dr. Schoolfield, to whom Dr. Semple directed 
his letter. I was kindly entertained here and at every 
other place at which l stopped. I ascended the Drum¬ 
mond ten miles, to see brother D. M. Curtis and lady, 
with whom I had had a pleasant acquaintance in Chilli- 
cotlie, in Ohio. They were both astonished and glad to 
see me. I preached several times, and returned to 
Portsmouth and preached for Rev. D. Woodson; cross¬ 
ed the river to Norfolk, and in the evening preached for 
the Rev. R. Howell. Elder Carr and others advised 
me to attend the Portsmouth association. Brother How¬ 
ell gave me a letter to Rev. John Faulchon, who is 
county clerk of Surry. I ascended the James river 
again, about fifty miles, and landed on the left bank op¬ 
posite Jamestown, which was the first settlement in Vir¬ 
ginia. Brother F. lived about a mile from the river. He 
paid every attention to me that I could wish, and sent 
fiis servants after my baggage. 

On Wednesday, 20th May, I spent the day very agree-* 




274 


MEMOIRS OF 


ably with brother Faulchon. In the afternoon, brother 
Philip Barzizar, a licensed preacher, with his lady, came 
over the James river from Williamsburg, to accompany 
brother F. to the association. Brother Barzizer was an 
Italian Count, had been a Roman Catholic, but was now 
a Baptist preacher. Elder Jeter also joined our com¬ 
pany. On the 21st, elder Faulchon gratuitously fur¬ 
nished me with a horse and gig, and we all set out for 
the association. It was about thirty miles. We had 
an agreeable interview, and returned again to brother 
Faulchon’s on the 25th. 

On the morning of the 26th, being about to leave this 
affectionate family, where I had received so many proofs 
of kindness, we engaged in prayer, and had a solemn 
and delightful season. He gave me two dollars for a 
hook, sent me to the river with brother Barzizar and 
lady in his hack, where a boat and servants were ready 
to take us over to Jamestown. We crossed the James 
river in aS)out the same place where Pocahontas did to 
relieve Capt. Smith. There was but one house left 
where what was called the city of Jamestown stood. It 
was once the capitol of Virginia. I saw a part of the 
steeple of the first church, or meeting-house, ever built 
in America. I must confess such things produce very 
solemn sensations on my mind. A few rods above the 
old site of Jamestown, is the landing place where the 
steam-boat takes and lands passengers, coming from or 
going to Williamsburg, which lies on another river about 
eight miles east from Jamestown, and was the seat of 
government at the commencement of the revolution. 
There I saw the old State-house where Patrick Henry 
delivered his celebrated speech; and there I also saw 
the magazine which belonged to his Britannic Majesty, 
which the Virginians broke open to get powder to fight 
his soldiers. This is but a few miles from the place 
where Cornwallis surrendered his army. It would have 
been some satisfaction to have viewed the ground, but 
my circumstances would not admit. Williamsburg, like 
many other ancient places, is on the decline. The col¬ 
leges and the insane hospital, however, render it some¬ 
what celebrated. Brother Barzizar very politely ac- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


companied me to sell my books and took me in his gig 
to James river; and after an affectionate farewell, I 
again went on board the steam-boat for Norfolk. Messrs. 
Shield, editors of the Norfolk Beacon, gave a very re¬ 
spectful notice of my book. I was successful in Nor¬ 
folk and Portsmouth in my sales. I had an interesting 
interview with Commodore Barron, in the Navy Yard. 
He bought half a dozen, and encouraged the sale of 
them among his officers. Visited old Point Comfort and 
Hampton, and returned again to Portsmouth, and put up 
with Dr. Schoolfield. On the Lord’s day, 31st, preach¬ 
ed for the Baptist church in Portsmouth. I was under 
especial obligations to Dr. Williamson, of the navy. 

On the 1 Oth of June I took the steam-boat for Balti¬ 
more, where I spent but a few days and hastened on to 
Philadelphia. 1 had made so long a stride toward home 
that I was very unwilling to be detained. I was very 
anxious indeed to get hom^. Six years had made a 
great change in Philadelphia. Dr. Rogers, Dr. Staugh- 
ton, and Dr. Holcombe were no more. I was courteously 
entertained by my old friend David Johns. I had some 
acquaintance with Rev. Noah Davis, since deceased. 
He introduced me to Rev. Mr. Brantley, who treated 
me with particular attention, for whom 1 preached one 
Sabbath, he being called out of the city. Mr. Chandler, 
the editor of the United States Gazette, bought a book 
of me and gave a complimentary notice of it in his paper. 
When I had passed through this section of the country 
in 1823, I formed a pleasant acquaintance with the Bap¬ 
tist church in the Great valley, about fifteen miles from 
Philadelphia. I obtained a passage out to the Great 
valley, and called on deacon Jonathan Philips, and had 
a very friendly interview with him and his lady. Lord’s 
day, 21st, he took me in his carriage to the meeting¬ 
house, where I preached. In the afternoon I preached 
in a grove, to a large audience, near the King of Prus¬ 
sia’s tavern. On Monday, the deacon and his lady ac¬ 
companied me to E. Siter’s, Esq., and also to Daniel 
Abraham’s, Esq. whose wife was the deacon’s daughter. 
Here I parted with the deacon, who was now upwards 
of seventy, and never expected to meet with him again 



276 


MEMOIRS OF 


in time. In the morning, Esquire Abraham accompa¬ 
nied rne to Mr. Lemuel George’s, another old acquain¬ 
tance, where we were indulged with a very pleasant in¬ 
terview, and returned again to brother Siter’s, from 
whence I took the stage for Philadelphia, and called on 
Mr. John Justin. This worthy brother and his amiable 
lady, as well as those precious friends above mentioned 
at the Great valley, had years before taken me in when 
a stranger. Mr. Justin lived in Vincennes when I passed 
along here six years ago; and in my first edition he is 
erroneously called Fustin. He and his excellent wife 
treated me as affectionate children. I can never forget 
their kindness; I made their house my home. But 
notwithstanding all the kindness they could bestow on 
me, I was sinking under my burden, and saw it indis¬ 
pensably necessary that I should shape my course home¬ 
wards. On the 8th of July I set out for New-York, 
arrived at 6 o’clock, and was heartily welcomed by my 
very worthy brother and sister Lewis. They certainly 
took a very deep interest in my welfare. 

I was so very anxious to get home, that nothing could 
divert my attention. As soon as it. was practicable I got 
my baggage on board the steam-boat, went on to Albany, 
and without calling on a single friend took a canal-boat 
for Utica; and on the J5lh of July, 1829, by the abound¬ 
ing mercy of God, arrived home and found my family 
all well. Through the kindness of heaven I had suc¬ 
ceeded in paying off my printer’s bill, and my other 
debts, and was able to do something to my house, which 
was yet unfinished. Of course* I could find employ¬ 
ment at home for a few months. My precious little 
daughters lay very near my heart. I could scarcely in¬ 
dulge a thought of living to see them arrive to maturity, 
and I felt as though it was indispensably necessary that 
what I could do for them should be done quickly. 

About the middle of November, I took with me my 
youngest son, and set off for the state of Maine. John, 
my oldest son, having gone on a year before to visit his 
friends, and to superintend the sale of a box of books I had 
sent on to Portland, the remainder of my books being at 
Albany, I sent a box of three hundred to Providence, R. I. 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


277 


and taking about one hundred with me, went on our jour¬ 
ney. In Lansingburgh I was generously patronized. VVe 
then passed on without delay through Vermont, and cross¬ 
ed the Connecticut river at Charleston, N. H. I made 
it convenient to visit Mr. Andrew Sherburne, my cousin, 
who lived in Hopkinton. There was but a few months 
difference in our ages; we had not seen each other for 
many years. His brother John lived within three miles, 
in the town of Concord. John’s wife was also my own 
cousin, the same who with Miss Hannah Nutter, so nar¬ 
rowly escaped being drowned with me in our trip to 
Dover. As might be expected, we met with a very 
pleasant reception in those families, and while our par¬ 
ents and so many of those who had been our contempo¬ 
raries, were sleeping in the dust, we had the opportunity 
to contrast our juvenile year3 with the -days of decrepi¬ 
tude and advanced age. It was very convenient for me 
to make my home with my cousin John, while I was 
selling my books to the patriots of Concord, where I 
spent one Sabbath, and preached once for my much es¬ 
teemed brother, the Rev. Mr. Williams, formerly of 
Beverly, Ms. 

Almost all my first wife’s connexions livecf in this re¬ 
gion. Gen. James Blake, of Chichester, married one of 
her nieces. .Mr. David Sherburne, of Epsom, was her 
nephew. My uncle C.’s children lived also in this 
section of country. To all these I was as one from the 
dead; we had never expected to meet each other again 
in time. My interview with this large circle of relations 
and friends was indeed interesting. 

When I pass through places that were familiar to me 
in my boyhood, which I have not visited for many years, 
it occasions very serious and solemn sensations, that I 
cannot describe. I am far from supposing that such 
sensations are peculiar to myself. In Epsom, no one 
object excited more peculiar emotions, than an ancient 
orchard that my hands had helped to plant more than 
sixty years ago. The trees looked ancient, and as plain 
as they could speak, they told me that like myself they 
were decaying. Is there not an appointed time to man 
upon the earth? I visited my brother, D. M. Ingalls, 



278 


MEMOIRS OF 


at Baldwin, in Maine, who married my youngest sister* 
They had recently buried a most desirable son, about 
eight years of age. His disposition was so very amia¬ 
ble, that he was the idol of the whole family. On our 
way eastward I visited my sister Abigail’s children, in 
North Yarmouth, whose husband was Mr. Joel Haven; 
and on the Kennebunk river visited my uncle Green’s 
descendants; and in Belmont I was permitted once more 
to behold the face of my honored uncle James Wey¬ 
mouth, who suffered with me on board the awful Jersey. 
I had not seen him for more than twenty years. I came 
upon him unexpectedly; but I shall not, for 1 cannot 
describe the scene, only to say we embraced like chil¬ 
dren. Could it be possible but that it would revive again 
those distressing scenes of the “ Old Jersey” and her 
hospital ships. The good old gentleman was in afflic¬ 
tion, his wife deranged, in consequence of the death of 
their only daughter some years since. She was a very 
interesting child. I also visited my brother George and 
his wife, who live in Prospect, on the Penobscot river, 
whom I had not seen for more than twenty years. Death 
had also lopped of their pleasant branches. But to all 
this long list of endeared relatives, I must be only as a 
way-faring man, who had turned aside but for a night. 
My brother George accompanied me to Bangor, while 
my two sons enjoyed themselves with their worthy aunt 
and cousins. It was now January, and we were in haste 
to return. Being in a wagon, we were fearful of being 
retarded by the snow. In Portland I had a pleasant 
time with my many old fiiends. I preached here seve¬ 
ral times, once at the Mariner’s church, and had many 
pleasant interviews with my old brethren. Brother 
Thomas Hammond took an especial interest in facilitat¬ 
ing the sale of my books. G. W. Pierce, Esq. the son 
of my old friend Hon. Josiah Pierce, of Baldwin, very 
much befriended me. 

I could make my friends at Kennebunk-Port and vi¬ 
cinity, but a partial visit; they had heard of my design 
to visit them, and expected that I should spend several 
weeks, at least among them; but in many families I 
could not afford to spend even a half an hour, where they 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


279 


had hoped that I should spend at least a night. I preach¬ 
ed once at my old stand, once at the Port, and once at 
Kennebunk. They evinced their friendliness by libe¬ 
rally patronizing my book. I forbear to name any of 
them, because I cannot name them all. I bear them on 
my heart, and hope to meet them in heaven. 

In Portsmouth, I had opportunity to visit my brother 
Randal Fernald, and my cousin Capt. Joseph Sherburne, 
on the ancient farm on the plain, to whom, with his lady 
and children, I am under especial obligation. By the 
mercy of God I arrived home with my two sons in good 
health, on the 10th of April 1830, and had the satisfac¬ 
tion to find my family well. In my first edition I men¬ 
tioned the sale of some village lots of land in Batavia, 
in Ohio. I had received information that nothing but 
my personal presence could recover them. I set out on 
the 20th of May on a journey of more than six hundred 
miles, succeeded in getting the lots transferred to my 
son again, had the satisfaction of seeing many old friends, 
of selling about sixty books, which were all that I had 
with me, and returned to my family on the 20th July, 
and by the mercy of God found them all well. It was 
my intention to go to Providence on the first of Septem¬ 
ber. But my gracious God saw fit to detain me, that I 
might pass an afflictive scene with my family. I had 
been astonished at the forbearance of heaven toward us 
in sparing our lives, while death had in years past 
been visiting almost every family around us. I had prob¬ 
ably enjoyed myself as highly for the space of two months, 
with my precious little girls, as any other old man ever 
did with his young children. Eliza Ann was by the 
neighbors called the mokt interesting of the family. On 
the 20th of September she was taken ill; by the 25th her 
physician pronounced her very ill; we began to despair 
of her recovery. The trial was great, we had never 
been called to part with a child. > I was brought to view 
the hand of God in this. When on about the eighth 
day, the doctor gave her up, the mother was almost in¬ 
consolable. 


“ Judge ye who know a mother's cares, 
For the dear tender babe she bears.” 


280 


MEMOIRS OF 


I endeavored to put myself on trial. I seemed con¬ 
vinced she must go. I felt almost forbidden to pray for 
her life, and endeavored to persuade myself that 1 was 
reconciled to her death, and I indulged in the following 
reflections. If she lives, she will sin against a holy God. 
If she lives, she will have to endure the trials and sor¬ 
rows which mortals are incident to. She will not be left 
a helpless orphan. The Lord will not suffer the dear 
babe to become contaminated with vice. He has occa¬ 
sion, for her—of such is the kingdom of heaven. All 
must die at some time, for the debt must be paid. Not 
my will, but thine, O Lord, be done. But all this does 
not sever the ties of affection. She breathed her last on 
the first day of October, and the eleventh day of her 
sickness, which was the canker-rash. 

“ Go view the garden where the fragrant, rose, 

In all the youthful pride of beauty glows; 

Go pluck the tender flower, and pensive, say, 

So cruel death may pluck me down to-day. 

’Tis often seen and known to be a truth, 

That death first preys upon the fairest youth ; 

The flowers that blossom first, first fade away, 

So fruit that first gets ripe, will first decay.” 

She was permitted to stay with me until I had run out 
the sixty-fifth year of my age. Those only from whom 
the Lord hath taken 

11 Those dear delights they here enjoyed, 

And fondly called their own,” 

can tell how fond parents in such circumstances feel; 
they well know that language cannot describe their feel¬ 
ings but in part. 

I cannot willingly close my little volume without ad¬ 
dressing a few lines more particularly to my own dear 
children; nor can I conceive of a place more appropri¬ 
ate for that purpose than this. 

My dear children, I have you much upon my heart; and 
I am now three hundred miles from you, and may never 
see you again. As certain as your dear sister is dead, 
so certain I must die, and you also must die. It is my 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


281 


fervent, humble wish and prayer to God, that you may 
all be happy; that you may be happy in this world and 
in the world to come. But you cannot be happy, unless 
you are just and virtuous. If you would be happy, you 
must be pious; you must love the Lord Jesus Christ in 
truth and sincerity, and keep his commandments. I 
have already admonished you, and instructed you, and 
would now my dear children exhort you to read your 
Bible, and especially the New^festament, carefully, stu¬ 
diously and prayerfully. Remember the Sabbath day; 
honor your parents; suppress your anger, your pride, 
and every lust. Live in love with each other, and may 
the God of all grace bless you in time and eternity. 

On the 19th November, 1830, I again left my dear 
family for the purpose of disposing ofthe books yet unsold. 
My son John accompanied me as far as Kirkland, (about 
ten miles) where he was going to stay with my good 
friend Enos Nichols, Esq. On the 20th, I went on alone, 
alternately indulging hopes and fears. My more intel¬ 
lectual and reflecting readers will draw their own con¬ 
clusions respecting the state of my mind, in view of the 
events which had lately occurred in my family, and the 
certainty of my enduring the trials of another winter, 
(as I had the two preceding, abroad,) if my life should 
be prolonged. To me, however, it appeared to be duty. 
Painful therefore as the thought was of leaving sweet 
home, viewing that the path of duty is the path of safety, 
I endeavored to commit my concerns to my God, and 
patiently endure his chastenings. After all, the unsta¬ 
ble and deceitful heart will repine, if not murmur. While 
ridincr alone through the mud, day after day, it seemed 
almost impossible but that I should bring to view, at least 
occasionally, the pleasant scenes I had enjoyed a few 
weeks before, when my precious little girls were sitting 
on my knees, with each an arm around my neck, amus¬ 
ing me with their sweet musical prattle. God forbid 
that I should indulge a murmur, though I mourn. His 
mercies have been great toward me, and I will praise 
him though he chasten me, and although he slay me 
yet will I trust in him. 

On the 24th, I called on Col. A. Burtt, at Water- 
24* 


282 


MEMOIRS OF 


vliet. He had read my book, and although an entire 
stranger, he and his pious lady treated me with as much 
affection as if we had been brothers. Here I left my 
horse, and went on to the city of New-York, where I 
had the satisfaction to find my much esteemed brother 
Daniel Lewis and family all in health. I had also the 
satisfaction to find my much esteeemed brother, John 
H. Harris and family, in health; who had been and 
still were very friendly to me. I spent ten days in the 
city, and sold eighty books. I am under especial obli¬ 
gations to Mr. John Smalley, a lawyer, and to Mr. G. 
Morgan, a book-seller, for the interest they took in aid¬ 
ing the sale of my work; nor is the kindness of Judge 
Flanigan forgotten. On the 7th. of December, 1 took 
the steam-boat for Albany; spent a night at Col. Burtt’s, 
and set out for Providence. At West-Stockbridge, I 
was hospitably entertained, by deacon Christopher 
French, and at Colebrook by Rev. Rufus Babcock, 
where I had ad excellent harbor in a rain-storm. He is 
a worthy old brother, whose praise is in all the churches. 

At Canton, Ct. I was kindly entertained by Harvy 
Case, Esq. a Baptist brother, who gave me $ 1 25, for 
a book. His father, the venerable deacon Elisha Case, 
gave me an ancient cane, which had for many years 
been the property of Benjamin Mills, late of Can¬ 
ton, a deacon of the Congregational church, no less 
celebrated for his piety, than for his patriotism. He 
was an aid to Gen. Montgomery, who fell by his side 
before Quebec, and was afterwards a Quartermaster in 
the U. S. service to the close of the war. tie died a 
few years since, at the advanced age of ninety-seven. In 
the last year of his life, he constantly walked two miles 
to meeting, on the Sabbath, until within a few weeks of 
his death.. 

It was not convenient to spend but a few min¬ 
utes with my worthy brother. Rev. G. Phippen, who 
also bought a book. He was engaged in a school. On 
the 17th, was kindly entertained, and had an inter¬ 
esting interview with a brother Truman Woodford and 
lady. Arrived at Hartford on the 18th, and sold a book 
to deacon Joseph JB. Gilbert, by whom and his lady I 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


283 


was so kindly provided for in 1823. Spent the Sabbath 
in Hartford, and preached for Rev. G. Davis part of the 
day; and Monday pursued my journey to Providence, 
not having books lor Hartford. I design, however, if 
the Lord will, to supply them with my second edition. 

I arrived at Providence, on the 1st of January, 1831. 

Providence to me is a memorable place. More than 
fifty years ago I was landed here, a poor sick beggar, 
from prison; and forty-eight years ago, 1 was landed 
here again a prisoner, from the dismal Jersey prison- 
ship, in as wretched a condition as any other person who 
travelled home in the course of the war. Seven years, 
ago, I again visited Providence, although not a beggar 
yet in a very dependant condition: having left mv fam¬ 
ily sick in Ohio, and having but just recovered from a 
long fit of sickness, in Middletown, Ct. Since 1 was 
last here, my good brother Gano and many others, have 
gone the way of all the earth. I was treated affection¬ 
ately by the Rev. Messrs. Pattison and Church, pas¬ 
tors of the 1st and 2d Baptist Churches. 

While selling my memoirs at the South, in 1829,1 under¬ 
stood that a Captain Dring of Rhode-Island, was about 
to publish his “ recollections of the Jersey prison ship.” 
During this visit to Providence, I was introduced to Al¬ 
bert G. Greene, Esq. the editor, and to Mr. IJ. II. Brown 
the publisher of the aforesaid book. They were among 
my patrons; the former had the politeness to make me a 
present of the aforesaid work. It is written in an ele¬ 
gant style,* is handsomely executed, and a very interest¬ 
ing volume. Until I came to Providence, 1 had the im¬ 
pression that Captain Dring was living. But I find that 
he has gone to '.hat borne from which no traveller re¬ 
turns; living, however, in respectful remembrance of 
the inhabitants of Providence. I also ascertained that the 
publication of my memoirs, was the occasion of Captain 
Dring’s making its appearance. It appears by Captain 
Dring’s account, that he was released from the Jersey, 
early in October, 1782; and I was put on board the Jer¬ 
sey late in Nov. 1782. He is much more minute in his 
description, than I have been in mine. 


284 


MEMOIRS Of 


So far as it respects the more prominent parts of the 
picture, they made too deep an impression on the mind, 
to be easily “ forgotten,” as he observes, even after the 
lapse of (“ forty-two”) or as I may say, of forty-eight 
years. I had forgotten the names of those hospital ships 
of which he speaks, the Scorpion, Stromboli, and Hun¬ 
ter. It is highly probable that the Frederick was employ¬ 
ed as a hospital ship after Capt. Dring left the Jersey, 
and the number of prisoners was increased that fall and 
winter. The crew of the Chesapeake, consisting of a- 
bout three hundred, were brought in at one time. I have 
the impression, that on some days, more than twenty died 
in a day on board the Jersey and the hospital ships. 
1 have already said, that there were seven died in one 
night, on board the ship where I was confined. It was 
Capt. Dring’s misfortune to suffer witli the heat, and mine 
with the cold. In regard to our rations, it is highly prob¬ 
able that the same order did not exist when I was on board. 

While last in New-York I formed a pleasant acquain¬ 
tance with Capt. Jabel Ingraham, ofSeekonk, about three 
miles from Providence. I found it very convenient to get 
my horse kept there, and am under especial obligations to 
him and his lady. I spent more than a week at differ¬ 
ent times in their family, very agreeably, while the in¬ 
clemency of the season prevented my travelling. 

B. F. Hallett, Esq. editor of the Daily Advertiser, 
gave my book a respectful notice, gratuitously. One of 
the first books sold, was to W. R. Staples, Esq. a law¬ 
yer. I saw him a few days after; he told me he had sat 
up one night till 11 o’clock, and another night till one, 
and had read my book through; and he had the"kindness to 
give me a work of R. Williams, worth a dollar. 

John Howland, Esq. one of the most respectable citizens 
of the place, having bought and read my book, informed 
me that the druggist, who so hospitably entertained me 
and my uncle forty eight-years ago, when we landed from 
the Jersey, must have been Governor Bowen, who at 
that time kept a druggist shop in the place I described. 

I had the satisfaction to sell one to his son, Henry Bowen, 
Esq. who is now Secretary of the State. 

Indeed I believe almost all the lawyers in the place 
bought of me. I was very liberally patronized by the prin- 


ANDREW SHERBURNE. 


285 


cipal part of the merchants and manufacturers. I am 
under especial obligations to Deacon Joseph Martin, 
and lady, where I was affectionataly entertained, as long 
as it was convenient for me to stay. I was highly gratih- 
ed in the company of friend Moses Brown, who is over 
four score and ten; his faculties seem as bright as if he 
was but sixty—he could tell me much about the ancients 
—he very cheerfully bought a book—I asked him if he 
could write now—I observed that gentlemen generally 
placed their names on my book—told him that it would 
be a gratification if he would place his name upon it— 
“O yes,” said the old patriarch—rose up, went to the 
taole, mended his pen, and wrote—“ Moses Brown, ag¬ 
ed 92years, S months, and 25 days”—in as fair a hand 
as is generally written. J had the curiosity to write as 
follows, viz. “ a descendant of Chad Brown, the father of 
John Brown; who was the father of James; who was the 
father of the second James; who was the father of the 
present Moses Brown; who now has great grand children.” 
Capt. Solomon Townsend was confined to his house with 
a lame foot. Mr. Potter, who had bought a book of me, 
took it to Capt. Townsend, who read it and sent word 
to me, that if I would call on him he would buy one. I 
was entirely willing to avail myself of the opportunity. I 
called, found him and his lady very friendly, they having 
read my book, seemed like old acquaintances. She is a 
member of the first Baptist church—the Capt. had been 
much over the world himself—had been a long time 
Capt. of an East India-man, and had been round the 
globe. It would be interesting to have his story in de¬ 
tail; but it is not at all probable that the public will ever 
get it; were he reduced to my circumstances, such a 
thing might be possible. Having spent a night with the 
Captain, I spent a day also, for it was stormy. He and 
his lady invited me whenever I came to Providence, to 
make their house my home. Thus the Lord graciously 
raises up friends for me. 

I was deeply interested, and highly gratified in the 
company of the pious and venerable John Hubbard, Mrs. 
Townsend’s father. I have already mentioned friend 
Moses Brown. These aged patriarchs and my father 




286 


/ MEMOIRS OF 


were born the same year, but they have outlived him 
more than half a century. 

About the 1st of Feb. I visited Pawtucket, and had the 
satisfaction of visiting Rev. C. Philleo and family, with 
whom I had formerly been acquainted; took part with him 
in an interesting meeting at Central Falls. 1 was kind¬ 
ly entertained at Capt. Gage’s. I was very pleasantly 
accommodated several days at brother Boswortn Walk¬ 
er’s; himself and his pious and very agreeable lady, were 
very much devoted to me. I made their house my home. 

I pray God to reward them for their labor of love. In 
Pawtucket I was generously patronized. Went on to 
Boston, where 1 had frequently associated with the wor¬ 
thy Baldwin, now no more. Here I found Dr. Bolles, 
my old friend. I put up with Rev. William Collier— 
preached twice to brother Collier’s people—visited good 
old Deacon Hiler and his agreeable family—Mr. James 
Newhall—Rev. John Peak, an old friend and acquain¬ 
tance, Deacon Heman Lincoln, and many others; but it 
was my principal business to sell my books. I spent 
more than two weeks in Boston; sold 120 books, and re¬ 
turned to Providence, and agreed with brother Hugh H. 
Brown to print another small edition. He very gener¬ 
ously made me welcome to his house, and furnished me 
with convenient accommodations, while I prepared my 
book for a second edition. 

Thus I have doomed myself to many months of hard 
toil, if the Lord will that my life should be spared, and my 
health admit. I can conceive of no more advantageous 
employment in which I can engage what little time I may 
be permitted to be active. I must, however, leave it all with 
God, to do with me and mine as seemeth him good. In 
his holy pleasure, I have had much to suffer; he has nev¬ 
ertheless been very gracious. Truly, goodness and mer¬ 
cy have followed me all my days. He has saved my feet 
from falling, mine eyes from tears, and my soul from death, 
while my fellows have been falling all around. I will 
therefore say, bless the Lord O my soul, and let all that 
is within me bless his holy name. 


V 


APPENDIX. 


While in the city of New-York, on the last of Nov. 
I understood that Mr. David Williams, the only surviv¬ 
or of the cnpturers of Maj. Andre, was in the city. He 
had recently been invited to the city to join the citizens 
in celebrating the recent French Revolution. I had the 
curiosity to seo him, and had the satisfaction of an in¬ 
troduction to him, and the gratification of hearing him 
narrate some of the^particulars of that important capture. 
But a more minute and circumstantial account of the 
affair shortly after appeared in the Albany Daily Ad¬ 
vertiser. As this document also brings to view “ the 
deeds of the days of other years,” I cheerfully give it 
a place in my little volume. 

WILLIAMS, THE SURVIVING CAPTOR OF ANDRE. 

During the late visit to N. York, I had the gratification 
of an introduction and of several interviews w ith David 
Williams, the only survivor ofthe three militiamen who 
arrested Major Andre ; and as he is now a subject of 
general interest, I shall attempt some description of him, 
in the belief that it will be gratifying to the public. 

He is now 77 years of age; of good appearance, with 
a healthy and somewhat florid countenance, and was in 
his youth no doubt, what would be called handsome; 
rather thick set, and measured, J should suppose, when 
erect, about five feet eight inches; but now, owing to the 
rheumatism, he stoops much, fie walks quite lame, 
leaning on a cane which was presented to him, and 
which was made of the wood of the chevaux-de-frieze 
placed by the Americans, in the revolution, near West 
Point, to prevent the British vessels from ascending the 
river. His whole appearance is scuh as will justify the 
application to him of the language of Shakspeare: 




£88 


APPENDIX. 


“ Thougli I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; 

For in my youth I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquor to my blood; 

Nor did not with unblushing forehead woo 
The means of weakness and debility; 
r l herefore my age is as a lusty winter, 

Frosty, but Kindly.” 

I spent several hours with him at different times at 
the ISinth Ward Hotel in New-York, where he stayed 
while in that city, sometimes alone and sometimes in 
large companies, and there are few men with whom I 
take more pleasure, than I did with him. He is a man 
of very general information, and has evidently been a 
steady and close reader of newspapers. He has a thor¬ 
ough knowledge of all the political events which have 
occurred in the world for many years. With politics of 
this country, generally, and with that of this state partic¬ 
ularly, he is well acquainted. 

While I was with him, I saw him introduced to a large 
number who had called to see him, and I was pleased 
at the easy and happy manner in which he received them. 
I also saw him introduced to some ladies, and the native 
and unaffected politeness with which he approached 
them, and touched their cheeks (a privilege which he 
claims of all the ladies to whom he is presented, and 
which is no doubt always willingly granted) pleased and 
interested all present. 

I was present when an interview took place between 
him and a man named Abraham Le Foy, who was in the 
army at West Point, at the time of the detection of Ar¬ 
nold. It was affecting to see the greetings which they 
gave each other, and heart stirring to hear them talk of 
days gone by, of hardships suffered, and privations en¬ 
dured, in the cause of liberty. The fire of patriotism ap¬ 
peared to burn in their breasts with renewed vigor, and 
the tears which dropped from their aged and bedimmed 
eyes were answered by like tokens of feeling in the spec¬ 
tators. 

It was not the least gratifying part of my communion 
with the veteran, to hear him describe an interview which 
he had with Washington soon after the capture of Andre. 
That hero took him and his two companions, Yan Wart 


APPENDIX. 


289 


and Paulding, by the hand, and thanked them in warm 
terms, in behalf of himself and the nation, for the ser¬ 
vices they had rendered, and congratulated them on their 
firmness and patriotism in regarding their country before 
wealth. Washington said to them, on parting, “young 
men, take care of yourselves.” At this time, neither 
Williams nor Van Wart could read; Paulding being the 
one who perused the papers lound on Andre. From 
that moment, they determined to acquire a knowledge of 
letters, and they carried their determination into effect, 
and endeavored generally to follow the advice of the Fa¬ 
ther of his country. 

One evening a large party had assembled at the above 
hotel, to pay their respects to Williams, and some good 
singers favored the company with some national songs. 
It was gratifying to witness the enthusiasm manifested 
by the veteran, at the patriotic sentiments of the songs, 
and he joined in chorus with much feeling. He him¬ 
self sung a song written during the revolution; the last 
words of every verse, were “ the brave George Wash¬ 
ington.” These words he sounded to the very top of 
his voice, and in a tone and manner which exhibited 
that his whole soul was wrapt in love of country, and in 
grateful feeling to the great and good man whose name 
he repeated with such emphasis. 

Williams wears at his breast a medal, which was pre¬ 
sented to him by Congress, as a mark of his services in 
capturing Andre; this he exhibits with a laudable pride. 
Congress also granted him a pension of $300 a year. A 
small compensation for the value of his services. 

While he was in New-York, at the lime of which 1 am 
speaking, the scholars of the Ninth Ward Public School 
presented him with an elegant silver pitcher, contain¬ 
ing appropriate inscriptions With this present, he was 
exceedingly gratified; and I am told by those who were 
at the presentation, that the veteran’s voice was almost 
inaudible, so much was he affected at this mark of youth¬ 
ful regard and gratitude. This pitcher became a great 
favorite with his numerous visitors; and hundreds of per- 
sins drank from it, declaring that it gave an excellent 
flavor to the liquor. A beautiful and substantial horse and 
25 


200 


APPENDIX. 


wagon were also presented to him by a number of gentle¬ 
men. He sat for several portraits. He visited the Bowery 
theatre by request ofthe managers, and a box was decorat¬ 
ed for him. YVhen he entered the house, he was received 
with deafening cheers, and he acknowledged the honor by 
repeated bows. The statement in some papers, that he 
himself gave, in the theatre, a history of the transaction 
which has immortalized him, is erroneous: That history 
was read by the manager. A splendid ball was also given 
him at the Ninth Ward Hotel. Many other tokens ot 
affection and regard were given him. 

The veteran expressed himself highly gratified at the 
kindness and attention which were bestowed on him 
while in New-York. He was much attached to Mr. 
Campbell, the proprietor of the Ninth Ward Hotel, who 
was deputed to visit him at his residence at Livingston- 
ville, Schoharie co. and invite him to join with the inhab¬ 
itants of the Ninth Ward, in celebrating the French rev¬ 
olution; and who also waited on him back to his home. 

The visit of Williams to the metropolis, and his parti¬ 
cipating in the celebration of the glorious events which 
have occurred in France, have surely had a most happy 
and salutary effect in sustaining a love of country, and 
awakening lively feelings of pure and lofty patriotism in 
the hearts of thousands who saw him. The sight of him 
would cause their minds to recur to the days of gloom 
and despondency, when a young and weak nation was 
manfully and almost hopelessly resisting the giant power 
of a kingdom, which had never bowed before any. When 
a people, poor and harassed, with an army nearly with¬ 
out food, and often without clothing to keep them warm, 
and without shelter to protect them from the wintry blast, 
were contending against a power with whom gold was 
like dirt, and whose soldiers had every comfort and con¬ 
venience which were required! When one of our best 
generals, high in the confidence of Washington, and el¬ 
evated in the esteem of his countrymen, forgetting his 
honor and throwing from him his glory, basely bargain¬ 
ed to sell himself to disgrace, and his country to ruin, 
for the possession of lucre, and the gratification of private 
and unworthy revenge. 


APPENDIX. 


291 


Their minds would then revert to the singular fact 
that three obscure and unknown young men, bound 
to their country by no tie except birth, but governed by 
that high and holy spirit of patriotism which can find 
lodgment only in pure hearts, firmly resisted offers far 
exceeding in value those which have tempted to infamy 
many, filling important places in their country’s service. 

The reflections which would ensue could not but pro¬ 
duce the most elevated feelings of virtue and patriotism. 
There they saw before them, like a bent and venerable 
oak,.alone upon the plain, and rejoicing with them at the 
success of principles inherent in his nature, one of those 
men who nobly preferred their country to wealth—their 
honest poverty to ignobly obtained riches. They could 
say, “there is an incorruptible patriot —there is the 
noblest work of God, an HONEST MAN.” They 
j could show him to their children and tell them his histo¬ 
ry. Need it be said what benign effect the lesson would 
have on the young mind ? 

Williams-is now travelling to the land to which his 
two associates and most others of the times of the revo¬ 
lution have gone before him. His downward path is one 
of calmness, for virtue is his companion. It is one of 
happiness, for the prayers of the good, and the blessings 
of the patriot accompany him on the way. And when 
he shall have arrived at the last gaol, paeons of joy will 
arise and shouts of congratulation be poured forth from 
his fellows, at the coming among them of one whose pu¬ 
rity could receive no just reward till he entered into the 
rest and partook of the bliss of heaven. 

'The following brief history of the life of Williams, 
previous to the capture of Andre, and detailed statement 
of that event, were written down as dictated by him, and 
give a more full account of himself and the capture, than 
has ever been published. It was read to him after it was 
written, and he certified to its correctness. His own 
language is preserved throughout, as near as might be. 

1 was born in Tarrrytown, then called Philip’s Manor, 
Westchester county, New-York, 1754. I entered the 
army 1775, at the age of 21, and was under General 
Montgomery at the taking of Fort St. Johns, and after-* 




292 


APPENDIX. 


wards on board of flat bottomed boats to carry provisions 
See.; served out my time, which was six months; I then 
went home, listed again in the spring of 1776, and contin¬ 
ued in the service by different enlistments, as a New- 
York militiaman, until 1779. 

In 177S, when in Captain Acker’s company of New- 
York militia at Tarrytown, I asked his permission to take 
a walk in company with William Van Wart, a boy about 
sixteen or seventeen years old. I proceeded to the 
cross roads on Tompkins’ ridge, stood looking a few 
minutes, and saw five men coming; they had arms; w r e 
jumped over a stone fence and concealed ourselves in a 
corner of it; observed that they were armed with two 
muskets and three pistols. They came so nigh that we 
recognized two of them, viz. William Underhill, and Will¬ 
iam Mosher, who were known to be of De Lancy’s corps, 
who were tories. When they came within proper dis¬ 
tance. I said to my companion, “ Billy, neck or no joint!” 
I then said aloud, as if speaking to a number, with the 
view of intimidating them, “ men make ready.”—They 
stopped immediately; I told them'to ground their arms, 
which they did: I then said; “march away,” they did so; 
I then jumped over the fence, secured their arms, and 
made them march before us to our quarters. I contin¬ 
ued in the service until a week or ten days before the 
year 1780. 

In December, 1779, Captain Daniel Williams, who 
was the commander of our company, mounted us on 
horses, and we went to Morrisiana, Westchester coun¬ 
ty. We swept all Morrisiana clear, took probably 
$5000 worth of property, returned to Tarrytown, and 
quartered at Young’s house. My feet being frozen, 
my uncle Martinus Van Wart took me to his house. I 
told Capt. Williams that the enemy would soon be at 
Young’s, and that if he remained there he would be on 
his way to Morrisiana before morning. He paid no at¬ 
tention to my remarks; he did not believe me; but in 
the course of the night a woman came to my uncle’s, 
crying, “Uncle Martinus! Uncle Martinus! the enemy 
are at Young’s house!” which was the truth, as the 
British had surrounded it, made prisoners of all the com¬ 
pany excepting two, and, burnt the barn. 


APPENDIX, 


293 


Having got well of my frozen feet, on the 3d of June, 
1780, we were all driven from Tarrytown to the upper 
part of Westchester county, in the town of Salem. We 
belonged to no organized company at all; were under 
no command, and worked for our board or Johnny Cake. 
Isaac Van Wart, who was a cousin of mine, Nicholas 
Storms, and myself, went to Tarrytown on a visit; we 
carried our muskets with us, and on our way took a 
Quaker, who said he was going to New-York after salt 
and other things. The Quaker was taken before the 
American authority and acquitted. 

In July or August, a number of persons, of whom I 
was one, went to visit our friends in Tarrytown, and 
while on the way, took ten head of cattle, which some 
refugees were driving to New-York, and on examina¬ 
tion before the authority, the cattle were restored to 
their right owners, as they pleaded innocence, saying 
they were stolen from them. I then returned to Salem 
and worked with a Mr. Benedict for my board,'until the 
22d of September. It was about one o’clock, P. M. as 
I was standing in the door with Mr. Benedict’s daugh¬ 
ter, (who was afterwards my wife) when I saw six men 
coming; she remarked, “they have got guns.” 1 
jumped over a board fence and met them. “ Boys,” 
said I, “ where are you going?” They answered, “we 
are going to Tarrytown.” I then said, “ if you will 
wait until I get my gun, I will go with you.” The names 
of five of these persons were Isaac Van Wart, John 
Paulding, William Williams, John Yerks, and James 
Romer; the name of the sixth I have forgotten. We pro¬ 
ceeded about fifteen miles that night, and slept in a hay 
barrack. In the morning we crossed Buttermilk hill, 
when John Paulding proposed to go to Isaac Reed’s, 
and get a pack of cards to divert ourselves with. After 
procuring them we went to Davis’ Hill, where we 
separated; leaving four on the hill, and three, viz. Van 
Wart, Paulding and myself, proceeded on the Tarry¬ 
town road about one mile, and concealed ourselves in 
the bushes on the west side of the road, and commenc¬ 
ed playing cards, three handed, that is, each one for 
himself. We had not been playing more than an hour, 
25* 



294 


APPENDIX. 


when we heard a horse galloping across a bridge but a* 
few yards from us; which of us spoke I do not remem¬ 
ber; one of us said, “there comes a trader going to- 
New-York.” We stepped out from our concealment 
and stopped him. “My lads,” said he, “ I hope you 
belong to our party.” We asked him “ what party?” 
He replied “the lower party.” We told him “ we did.” 
He then said, “ I am a British officer, have been up the 
country on particular business, and would not wish to 
be detained a minute,” and as a token to convince us 
lie was a gentleman, he pulled out and shewed us his 
gold watch; we then told him we were Americans.^— 
“God bless my soul,” said he, “a man must do any 
thing these times to get along,” and then shewed us Ar¬ 
nold’s pass. We told him “ it would not satisfy us 
without searching him.” “My lads,” said he, “you 
will bring yourselves into trouble.” We answered, 
“ we did not fear it,” and conducted him about seventy 
rods into the woods. My comrades appointed me to 
search him; commencing with his hat, I searched him, 
but found nothing, until I pulled off one of his boots, 
when we discovered that something was concealed in 
his stocking. Paulding caught hold of his foot and ex¬ 
claimed, “ By G—, here it is!” I pulled off his stock¬ 
ing, and inside of it, next the sole of his foot, found 
three half sheets of paper, enclosed in another half 
sheet, which was endorsed “ West Point;” and on pul¬ 
ling off the other boot and stocking, I found three like 
papers, enclosed and endorsed as the others. On read¬ 
ing them, one of my comrades said, “ By G—, he is a 
spy.” We then asked him where he got those papers; 
he told us, “ of a man at Pine’s Bridge, but he said he 
did not know his name. Me offered us his gold watch, 
his horse, saddle, bridle, and 100 guineas, if we would 
let him go; we told him “no; but he must inform us 
where he got the papers.” He answered us as before, 
but increased his offer to 1000 guineas, his horse, &c. 
we told him again we would not let him go, he then 
said, “gentlemen, I will give you 10,000 guineas and 
as many dry goods as you will ask, conceal me in any 
place of safety, while you can send to New-York, with 


APPENDIX. 


29,1 

an order to Sir Henry Clinton, from me, and the 
goods and money will be procured, so that you can get 
them unmolested.” We told him “ no, his offers were 
in vain, we were Americans, and above corruption, and 
go with us he must.” We then took him about twelve 
miles to Colonel Jamison’s quarters, at North Castle. 




Having had while in Providence the satisfaction of a 
personal interview with John Howland, Esq. a veteran 
of the revolution, and shortly after, noticing in the Pro¬ 
vidence Journal his letter to the Secretary of War, 
I indulge myself the gratification of presenting my pat¬ 
rons with the same. The letter is thus introduced by 
the Editor of the Journal. 

The following letter will be read with deep interest, by 
every one who feels the least sympathy for the heroes of the 
Revolution. It details in part the. most gloomy campaign 
during our struggles for independence, while it will enable 
the historian to record what ought long ago to have been 
recorded, that at the most gloomy hour of our Revolution, 
at the close of 1776, our country was saved, and saved by 
Rhode-Island valor. The brilliant affairs at Princeton and 
Trenton, in the depth of winter, were mainly achieved by 
Col. Lippitt’s regiment; and General Washington, at the 
time acknowledged it; yet so sparing has the historian been 
of his praises, that we do not remember that he has conde¬ 
scended to mention the part the Rhcde-Island troops took 
in those battles. 

But what is still more singular, the few remaining survivors 
of this regiment, who are in indigent circumstances, have 
been heretofore denied pensions, under the frivolous pre¬ 
tence, (for it is nothing else but pretence) that this regiment 
did not serve nine months on the continental establishment. 
It was raised for one year, in January, 1776, and immediate¬ 
ly went upon duty; yet, it is said, it was not voted into the 
continental line until May; and as its time of enlistment ex¬ 
pired on the 18th of January, ’77, it lacked a few days of 
having served nine months, the period which the law con¬ 
templates, to entitle one to a pension. But what is still 


296 


APPENDIX. 


more singular, it was decided by Mr. Calhoun, when Secre- 
tary of War, as we have understood, that the nine months 
“ at any period of the war, (the words of the law of March, 
1818, must be construed to mean nine months at one pe¬ 
riod, under one enlistment ,’) thus excluding the voluntary 
enlistment of this brave regiment for one month, in the 
depth of the winter of 5 76—’7; also making law, rather 
than administering it, as it stands in the statute book.— 
Were this voluntary enlistment admitted, this regiment 
would have served over nine months, at one period, even 
from May; but without it, it wanted a few days only of 
that time. But we hope better things of the present Secre¬ 
tary, though no favorite of ours, who, we understand, has 
been requested to revise the former decision in regard to this 
regiment, and to whom a duplicate of the following letter has 
been sent. 

Benjamin Cowell, Esq.— 

Dear Sir: You having requested me to state what is within my 
knowledge relating to the Regiment commanded by Col. Christo¬ 
pher Lippitt, in the year 1776, with a view to the right which the 
few survivors have to claim the aid of the Government for support, 
during the short period which may yet remain to men so far ad¬ 
vanced in life, I will endeavor, as far as l am able, to comply with 
your request. 

Early in the month of January, J776, the General Assembly of 
the then colony of Rhode-Island, resolved to raise a Regiment, in 
addition to those already in service, to serve for the term of one 
year from the eighteenth day of that month. Colonel Henry Bab- 
eock was appointed to command the Regiment, which was to con¬ 
sist or be composed of twelve companies. Two or three months 
after the men were enlisted, Col. Babcock quit the service, and Lt. 
Col. Lippitt was promoted to the command. The men were soon 
enlisted, and quartered in Newport. I enlisted in the 7th compa¬ 
ny, commanded by Captain David Dexter. I was then eighteen 
years and three months old. The following is a copy of the en¬ 
listment which we signed; I have just copied it from the State 
records: 

“I, the subscriber, hereby solemnly engage and enlist myself as 
a soldier in the pay of the colony of Rhode-Island, for the preserva¬ 
tion of the liberties of America, and the defence of the United 


APPENDIX. 


297 


Colonies in general, and this colony in particular, from the day of 
my enlistment for one year, unless the service shall admit of a dis¬ 
charge sooner, which shall be at the discretion of the General As¬ 
sembly. And I hereby promise to submit to all orders and regula¬ 
tions of tho army, and faithfully to observe and obey such orders 
as I shall receive from time to time from my superior officers.” 

The officers of the Regiment were at fust commissioned by the 
Governor of the colony; they some time after received commissions 
from the President of Congress, and I have understood that the 
decision of the War Office, which excluded any of this Regiment 
from the pension list, was predicated on the circumstance of the o!- 
fieers having, during part of the term, been commissioned by the 
State. Whatever validity there may have been in this, it could 
only operate in the case of a commissioned officer, for all the non¬ 
commissioned and privates were marched out of the State, and 
joined the army under General Washington, under the binding 
force of the articles of the enlistment, which they subscribed on 
entering the Regiment; and we, from the day of our enlistment, 
had always supposed that we were liable to be ordered to join the 
main army, at any moment when the general good of the whole, 
or the exigency of the case might render it necessary or expedient; 
and this was sufficiently tested after the disastrous action on Long- 
Island, when we were ordered to embark from Rhode-Island, and 
join General Washington at Nevv-York, as we knew from the ten¬ 
or of the enlistment, we were engaged for the service of the United 
Colonies , or States 

The Regiment served one complete year, under the enlistment, 
and engaged voluntarily for another month, under the following 
circumstances. 

On the 31st day of December, 1776, the remnants of all the di¬ 
visions, brigades or regiments, which had composed the army of 
the U. States at the opening of the campaign, together with a com¬ 
pany of volunteers, from Philadelphia, were, assembled at a 
place called Crosswicks, in Jersey; tho term of service of all the 
Continental troops, except ours, (Lippitt’s regiment,) expired on 
that evening: we, our regiment only, were held for eighteen day* 
more, our year having commenced on the 18th of January, 1776. 
The brigade to which we were attached, was composed of five 
regiments, three of which (Yarnurn’s, Hitchcock’s and Lippitt’s,), 


298 


APPENDIX. 


were from Rhode Island; and the other two (Nixon’s and Little’s,) 
were from Massachusetts. Col. Daniel Hitchcock, the oldest Co¬ 
lonel present, commanded this brigade; of the number of men, 
Lippitt’s counted more than one third. This was the time which 
tried both body and soul. We had by older of the General, left 
our tents at Bristol, on the other side of the Delaware. We were 
standing on frozen ground, which was covered with snow. The 
hope of the Commander in Chief, was sustained by the character 
of these half frozen, halt starved men, that he could persuade them 
to volunteer for another month. He made the attempt, and it suc¬ 
ceeded. He directed or requested General Mifflin to address or 
harangue our biigade—lie did it well, although he made some 
promises, perhaps, without the advice of General Washington, 
which wore never fulfilled. He said all or every thing which 
should be taken from the enemy during the month, should be the 
property of the men, and the value pf it divided among them. 
These promises, although they had no weight or effect in inducing 
the men to engage, ought to have been fulfilled, though, at the 
time they were made, no one could suppose it probable we could 
lake stores or baggage from the enemy, who had six men to our 
one then in Jersey. The request of the General was assented to, 
by our unanimously poising the firelock, as a signal. Within two 
hours after this vote, we were on our march for Trenton, which' 
place we had left two days previous. From the badness of the 
road, the darkness of the night, and accidents to the art illery car¬ 
riages, or the falling of a horse, fyc. vve consumed the whole night 
in the march, and quartered in the morning in houses from which the 
Hessians had been taken the week before. When we had kindled a 
fire, and were collecting from our knapsacks or pockets a stray rem¬ 
nant of bread or tainted pork, and thus taking our little share of rest 
or comfort, the drums beat, and wo were immediately paraded. Most 
of those who have attempted to write a history of the war, have 
given some, though imperfect accounts of the transactions of this 
day. Lord Cornwallis was on the march from Princeton, with, as 
it was said, ten thousand men, to beat up our quarters.— Here was 
the wholearmv of the United States, which was supposed to amount 
to about four thousand men, commanded by His Excellency Gen¬ 
eral Washington, Mifflin, Sullivan, Greene, Knox, &c. 


APPENDIX. 


299 


Our troops were posted on the south side of a brook or small riv¬ 
er, which crosses the town near the south end, and enters the Del¬ 
aware; a continuation of the Main street crossed this little river over 
a stone bridge. It was evidently the purpose of Geneial Wash- 
ington, to induce Cornwallis to approach and enter the town, at 
the north end, fur this purpose, a company of artillery and a pick¬ 
et was placed on the road leading from Princeton, who were at¬ 
tacked by the advance of the British. Our brigade was ordered to 
cross the bridge and march through the main town street, to cover 
the retreat of the artillery and picket., into and through the north 
end of the town. This was towards the close of the day. We met 
them and opened our ranks to let them pass through; we then clos¬ 
ed in a compact and rather solid column, as the street through 
which we were to retreat to the bridge was narrow, and the Brit¬ 
ish pressed closely on our rear; part of the enemy pressed into a 
stieet, between the Main street and the Delaware, and fired into 
our right flank, at every space between the houses; when what 
was now our front, arrived near the bridge which we were to pass, 
and where the lower, or Water-street formed a junction with the 
Main street, the British made a quick advance in an oblique direc¬ 
tion to cut us off from the bridge; in this they did not succeed, a* 
we had a shorter distance in a direct line to the bridge than they 
had, and our artillery, which was posted on the south side of the 
brook, between the bridge and the Delaware, played into the front 
and flank of their column, which induced them to fall back; the 
bridge was narrow, and our platoons were in passing it crowded 
into a dense and solid mass, in the rear of which, the enemy were ma¬ 
king their best efforts. The noble horse of Gen. Washington stood 
with his breast pressed close against the end of the west rail of tho 
bridge, and the firm, composed, and majestic countenance of the 
General inspired confidence and assurance in a moment so impor¬ 
tant and critical. In this passage across the bridge, it was my for¬ 
tune to be next the west rail, and arriving at the end of the bridge 
rail, I pressed against the shoulder of the General’s horse, and in 
contact with the boot of the General. The horse stood as firm as 
the rider, and seemed to understand that he was not to quit his post 
and station. When I was about half way across the bridge, the 
General addressed himself to Col. Hitchcock, the commander of 
the brigade, directing him to march his men to that field, and form 


300 


APPENDIX. 


them immediately, or instantly, or as quick as possible; which of 
the terms he used, 1 am not certain; at the same time extending 
his arm and pointing to a little meadow, at a little distance, on the 
south side of the creek or river, and between the road and the Del¬ 
aware. This order was promptly obeyed, and then we advanced 
to the edge of the stream, facing the enemy, who soon found it pru¬ 
dent to fall back under cover of the houses. What passed at the 
bridge while we were forming as directed, I of course did not wit¬ 
ness, but understood that as soon as our brigade had passed, the 
cannon which had been drawn aside, to leave us a passage, were 
again placed at the end of the bridge and discharged into the front 
of the enemy’s column, which was advancing towards it; at the 
same time several pieces placed at the right and left of the bridge, 
with musketry at the intervals, took them partly in flank. They 
did not succeed in their attempt to cross the bridge, and although 
the creek was fordable between the bridge and the Delaware, they 
declined attempting a passage there, in the face of those, who pre¬ 
sented a more serious obstruction than the water. 

Night closed upon us, and the weather, which had been mild 
and pleasant through the day, became intensely cold. On one 
hour, yes, on forty minutes, commencing at the moment when the 
British troops first saw the bridge and creek before them, depend¬ 
ed the all-important, the all-absorbing question, whether we 
should be Independent States, or conquered rebels! Had the army 
of Cornwallis within that space have crossed the bridge, or forded 
the creek, unless a miracle intervened, there would have been an 
end of the American army. If any fervent mind should doubt 
this, it must be from his not knowing the state of our few half- 
starved, half frozen, feeble, worn out men, with old fowling pie¬ 
ces for muskets, and half of them without bayonets, and the States 
*o disheartened, discouraged, or poor, that they sent no reinforce¬ 
ments, no recruits to supply the places of this handful of men, w’ho, 
but the day before, had volunteered to remain with their venerated 
and beloved commander, for thirty days more. General Mercer, 
who led on the Philadelphia volunteers, fell mortally wounded 
in the beginning ofthe action. 

The march that night from Trenton to Princeton, is well known. 
It was not by the direct road ; a considerable part of it was by a 
new passage, which appeared to have been cut through the woods, 


APPENDIX. 


301 


as the stubs were left from two to five inches high. We moved 
slow on account of the artillery, frequently coming to a halt, or 
stand still, and when ordered forward again, one, two, or three 
men in each platoon, would stand , with their arms supported, fast 
asleep ; a platoon next in the rear advancing on them, they, in 
walking, or attempting to move, would strike a stub and fall — 
Our proceedings at Princeton, are matters ot history, except one 
circumstance, which has a bearing on the present question —and 
that is, the commander in chief took the commander of our brig¬ 
ade by thehand, after the action—expressing his high approbation 
of his conduct, and that of the troops he commanded—and wished 
him to communicate his thanks to his officers and men. 

Besides the prisoners taken at Princeton, there were a number 
of wagons loaded with the army baggage. I suppose it was about 
noon when we left Princeton with the prize goods and prisoners ; 
we marched quick, as the advance guard of the British arrtiy 
whom we had left the night before at Trenton, were said to be 
close in our rear, following us as they supposed to Brunswick, the 
head quarters of General Howe, but in three or four miles, we 
turned a square corner and proceeded north, towards Somerset 
Court-House. The British continued on to Brunswick. Ten or 
eleven o’clock at night, we arrived at the Court-House, in which 
the prisoners were shut up. It will be remembered this was the 
third night’s march, and under arms or marching all day. There 
were barely houses sufficient for the quarters of the Generals and 
their attendants. The troops took up their abode for the rest of 
the night, on the frozen ground. All the fences and every tiling 
that would burn, was piled in different heaps and burnt, and he 
was the most fortunate who could get nigh enough to smell the 
fire or smoke. The next day, we continued our march towards 
Morristown. About the third day after our arrival at Morristown, 
the commander of our brigade, Col. Daniel Hitchcock, died, fiom 
the sufferings he had experienced in this dreadful campaigu. He 
was a very accomplished gentleman, and a fine officer; few of 
the Generals exceeded or equalled him in talents; he was educa¬ 
ted at Yale. After this, the brigade was broken up The re¬ 
giments which had comprised it, being sent to different stations, 
near the enemy’s lines. Our regiment, Lippitt’s, had our head 
quarters at a place called Chatham, detachments being continu- 
26 



302 


APPENDIX 


ally on duty in the neighborhood of the British lines at Brunswick- 
At length we were discharged in the month of February, by de¬ 
tachments or small guards, as it was said we could better find lodg¬ 
ings or shelter for a night on the road. Our paper money wages, 
forty shillings the month, was never paid fully, and we received 
nothing to bear our expenses home. 

“Some had to beg their bread 

Through realms their valor saved.’' 

I ought to have mentioned in the beginning of this desultory 
narrative, that the men had no bounty, when they enlisted, and 
were not furnished with any clothes; we found our own clothes, 
and we had the promise of forty shillings per month, but, as an 
outfit, we had two months pay in advance. This will account for 
the fact, that many of our men long before the close of this ser¬ 
vice, whose shoes were worn out, repaired to the butcher’s yard, 
and cut out a piece of raw hide, which they laced, with strips of 
the same skin, about their feet. This, when the weather was 
moist, was not so utterly bad ; but I recollect as soon as my moc¬ 
casins became frozen, they chafed my toes till they bled. On the 
next day’s march, I left the quarter guard ; as we were passing a 
Dutchman’s house, the good man had gone to the barn; I propos¬ 
ed to his wife to buy an old pair of shoes, which I saw at the 
head of a bed; she said her husband would not sell his shoes ; I 
showed her the situation of my feet, and offered m haste, what 
ought to have been the price of a new pair ; she took the money 
and I carried off the shoes. She may have been induced to close 
the bargain, from an apprehension, that I would take them at all 
events, though I hope this did not influence her decision. 

In mentioning the vote taken at Croswick’s, to serve another 
month, I ought to have stated a circumstance, which rendered this 
act of the Rhode-Island troops more of a patriotic character, than 
that of the other troops, composing the line of the army. 

December 6,177G, General Clinton and Lord Percy, with a Brit¬ 
ish army, landed and took possession of the island of Rhode- 
Island. This news was brought to our regiment, the day we 
crossed the Delaware, at Easton, after General Lee was taken 
from us on our passage from Hudson river, through Jersey west¬ 
ward. This news from Rhode-Island more seriously affected 
Lippitt’s regiment than any other. This corps was not composed 
of such materials as generally compose a standing army. We 
were mostly young men, who had left parents or near connections 
at home. The most of two companies, Carr’s and Brownell’s, 
were natives of the Island, and those who were from the main 
land were in doubt and uncertainty, whether the towns up the riv¬ 
er, or indeed the whole State was not possessed, or been devastated 
by the enemy. This was reason sufficient, without taking into the 
account the sufferings of the season, for us to wish to return home, 
to search for, or know the fate of the nearest connections ; and 


APPENDIX. 


303 


thi* too, will furnish an apology (or the State to which we belong¬ 
ed, for not sending us any partial supplies of clothing, and espe¬ 
cially of shoes, before our discharge, as a third part of the State 
was in possession of the enemy, and exertions wore then mak¬ 
ing, to raise and equip three regiments of troops, for the de¬ 
fence of the leinainder. Under all these disadvantages, when 
our time of service had expired, the State sent an agent, Mr. 
J. J. Hazard, with a quantity of shoes, for those he should 
meet, who were barefooted. We met him at Peekskill, and 
there he presented me with a new pair, and there 1 left what 
remained of those I bought of the Dutch woman ; and with 
the new ones, after being detained in that neighborhood three 
weeks by sickness, I travelled home to Providence. 

To return to the subject of the pension list. I know of not 
more than six or seven now living, who have asked to be plac¬ 
ed on the list. Poor, infirm old men—who in the prime of their 
youth, by the side of Washington, defended the pass at Tren¬ 
ton bridge, and made these what they now are, independent 
States. And why are they excluded ? because the Secretary at 
war, Mr. Calhoun, thought they had not been nine months in the 
service of the United States. Is it possible? Can it be possible ? 

JOHN HOWLAND. 

Providence, November 24, 1830. 

Notices of some of the officers of LippitCs Regiment , 
after the same was disbanded. 

After Col. Lippitt returned home he was appointed Major Gen. 
of the Militia of the State. 

The Lt. Col. Adam Comstock, settled at the close of the 
war, in Saratoga, arid was a member of the Legislature, and 
one of the council, with the first Gov. Clinton of New-York. 

Capt. William Jones of this Regiment was in 1811 elected 
Governor of this State, in which he served five or six years. 

Capt. Martin was Lt. Governor. 

Capt. lioppin was Colonel of the senior class of militia of the 
county, and several years one of the Representatives of the 
Town of Providence in the General Assembly. 

Lt. Sayles was for a number of years a member of the House 
of Representatives. 

Philip Martin who entered as a Sergeant in this Regiment and 
was promoted to the office of Ensign, and carried the colors of 
th e Regiment, in the action at Princeton, was at the time of 
his death a State Senator. 

Ensign Thomas Noyes, of Capt. Stanton’s company, was for 
many years a Representative from the town of Westerly, and 
was one of the electors of Piesident and Vice-President of the 
United States. 

Benjamin Bourne, the Quartermaster, was a member of the 
State Convention, which adopted the constitution, and was the 
first Representative in Congress chosen by the State under the 
new government; he was afterwards one of the three Judges of 
the Eastern Circuit of the United States. 


304 


APPENDIX. 


GENERAL BARTON. 

As my visit and business in Providence were calcu¬ 
lated to bring up again to view some of the more inter¬ 
esting events of the Revolution, General Barton, who 
captured the British General, Prescott, was several 
times named to me. 1 was anxious to have the honor 
and gratification of a personal interview with the vener¬ 
able patriot. With this favor I was indulged; but it 
was a striking admonition to me. Ilis mental powers 
were much depreciated, and the good old gentleman 
was apprised of the fact. He could recollect with some 
precision the events of former years; but recent events 
were obliterated from his mind. A few more rolling 
suns, and the last grave of an actor in the war of the 
revolution, will have closed. 

The following particulars of the capture of General 
Prescott, by General (then Col. Barton) I have extract¬ 
ed from a small volume recently published, entitled 
u Tales, National and Revolutionary. By Mrs. C. R. 
Williams. 0 

The capture of Gen. Prescott was not that rash and 
headlong adventure (though an exploit sufficiently haz¬ 
ardous) that some attempted to make it appear. It was 
planned and executed with consummate prudence, and 
had been for some time the subject of reflection and 
calculation in the mind of Col. Barton. It may be rec¬ 
ollected that Gen. Lee had been captured by surprise in 
the preceding November, at Baskinbridge, in New- 
Jersey, by Col. Rarcourt, who learning he was lodged 
in a remote country house, while he was scouring the 
country with his cavalry, appeared suddenly before him, 
and securing the sentinels, mounted him on a swift 
horse, and conveyed him to New-York. There was no 
one in the country who felt more on this occasion than 
Col. Barton, and from the moment that the circumstance 
was made known to him, he resolved, if ever an oppor¬ 
tunity offered, to surprise some Major-General of the 
British army, in order to procure his release. That 
opportunity offered: In the month of June, 1777, a Mr. 
Coffin made his escape from the enemy on Rhode-Island, 
And was brought to his quarters. From this person he 


APPENDIX. 


305 


learnt that the General was quartered at the house of a 
Mr. Overing, on the west side of the Island, describing 
it particularly. He was followed by a deserter the next 
day, who gave the same intelligence. 

The troops stationed at Tiverton were not inured to 
service, nor Col. Barton either; and this circumstance 
alone caused him to debate a few days before he com¬ 
municated the project of surprising Gen. Prescott, to 
any one. He first communicated it to Col. Stanton, 
and received his advice and ready concurrence. He 
then selected several officers, whose ability and secrecy 
he judged from personal acquaintance he could confide 
in, and asked them if they were willing to go with him 
on an enterprise, the particular object of which he could 
not then inform them of. They all consented, at once. 
Their names and rank were as follow: Ebenezer Adams, 
Captain of artillery; Samuel Phillips, Captain; James 
Potter, Lieutenant; Joshua Babcock, Lieutenant; An¬ 
drew Stanton, Ensign; and John Willcox. 

The next step to be taken was to procure boats, a 
thing attended with some difficulty, as there were but 
two at the station. However, in a few days they ob¬ 
tained five whale boats, and had them fitted in the best 
possible manner. All was now ready except the men, 
who had not been engaged, for fear it would create sus¬ 
picion. As Col. Barton wished to have them all vol¬ 
unteers, the regiment was ordered to be paraded. He 
then addressed them, telling them he was about under¬ 
taking an enterprise against the enemy, and wished to 
have forty volunteers; desiring those who were willing 
to risk their lives with him, to advance two paces in 
front. At this the whole regiment advanced. After 
thanking them for their willingness, he selected forty, 
whom he knew understood rowing, and upon whom he 
might depend. With this company they embarked for 
Bristol first, on the fourth of July; but a heavy storm of 
thunder and rain, when they got into Mount Hope Bay, 
obliged them to separate, and Col. Barton lost sight of 
all the boats but one; those two kept together and ar¬ 
rived at Bristol at ten o’clock at night on the fifth, thus 
being two days in crossing the ferry. Proceeding to 
the commanding officer’s quarters, he there found ano- 


306 


APPENDIX. 


ther deserter from the British camp, who gave him con¬ 
siderable misinformation upon being questioned. How¬ 
ever, at eight o’clock the other boats arrived, and the Col. 
look the officers with him to Hog Island, from which they 
had a distinct view of the British encampment and ship¬ 
ping, and there he first unfolded his plan to them. They 
appeared surprised, but after his telling them the situa¬ 
tion of the house where Gen. Prescott lodged, and the 
part he wished each to act in the intended enterprise, 
they consented, and promised not to give the least hint 
of it. They then returned to Bristol, and staid until 
about nine at night of the sixth, when they re-embarked 
and crossed over to Warwick Neck, from whence they 
meant to take their departure for the Island. On the 
seventh, the wind changed to the E. N. E. and brought 
on a storm, some obstacles intervened on the eighth and 
they did not take their departure until nine o’clock on 
the ninth. 

Before the departure of the boats, the Colonel number¬ 
ed them all, and appointed each his place. To every 
boat, there was one commissioned officer, exclusive of 
Col. Barton. The party consisted of forty-one men, of¬ 
ficers included. Before their departure, the Colonel 
collected them in a circle and addressed them, acquaint¬ 
ed them with the object of the enterprise, and the hazard 
attending it, and pledging them to take the lead and 
share every danger, whatever it might be, equally with 
his soldieis, entreating them to preserve the strictest or¬ 
der, and not to have the least idea of plunder; to pre¬ 
serve profound silence, and ordering them, if any had 
been so imprudent as to furnish himself with any spirit¬ 
uous liquors, to leave it. After commending them to 
the great Disposer of events, they proceeded to the 
shore. 

The commanding officer at Warwick Neck was di¬ 
rected to keep a sharp look out, and if he should hear 
the report of three distinct muskets, to come on to the 
north end of Prudence to take them off; for they had 
reasons to fear the British men of war might send their 
boats out, and cut them off from the main. 

In the forward boat Col. Barton posted himself with a 
pole ten feet long and a handkerchief tied to the end of 


APPENDIX. 


307 


it, so that his boat might be known from the others, and 
that none might go before it. They went between the 
Islands of Prudence and Patience, in order that the 
shipping which lay against Hope Island, might not dis¬ 
cover them, and rowed under the west side of Prudence 
till they came to the southend, when they heard the 
enemy on board their ships cry out “ All’s well.”— 
When they were within about three quarters of a mile 
of Rhode-Island, they heard a great noise like the run¬ 
ning of horses. This threw a consternation over the 
whole party; but none spoke. They slackened for a 
moment, but the Colonel concluding it was only the ac¬ 
cidental running of horses, as they often do when let 
loose, concluded to push on and soon gained the shore 
—There was then a man left to each boat to keep 
them ready for a push, for fear the enemy might try to 
impede their retreat. The party were then marched in 
five divisions to the house, which was just one mile from 
the shore, preserving the strictest silence. 

The entrance to the house where Gen. Prescott had 
taken his quarters, was by three doors, on the south, 
east and west; three of the five divisions were to attack 
each a door. The fourth to guard the road, the fifth to 
act on emergencies. They left the guard house on the 
left; on the right was a house where a party of light 
horse were quartered in order to carry orders from Gen. 
Prestcott, to any part of the Island. When they open¬ 
ed the gate of the front yard, the sentinel who stood 
about twenty-five yards from them, hailed “ who comes 
there?” They gave no answer, but continued marching 
on. There being a row of trees between them, he could 
not so well distinguish their number. lie again hailed, 
and they answered “friends.” “Advance and give 
the countersign.” To which Gen. Barton answered, as 
in a great passion, “ We have no countersign, but have 
you seen any deserters to night?” This had been con¬ 
trived as a decoy, and it had the effect, for before he 
suspected them to be enemies, they had seized his mus¬ 
ket and made him prisoner, telling him if he made the 
least noise, he should be put to death. They asked him 
u if Gen. Prescott was in the house?” He was so 
frightened at first he could not speak; but at length, wa- 


308 


APPENDIX. 


ving his hand towards the house, he said “ yes.” By 
- this time each division had got its station, and the doors 
were burst in. They first went into the chamber of Mr. 
Overing, the General was not there; tben into the 
one Mr. Overing’s son lodged in; he said the General 
was not there. Col. Barton then went to the head 
of the stairs, and called to the soldiers with¬ 
out u to set the house on fire, as he was determined to 
have Gen. Prescott, either dead or alive.” On this 
they heard a voice below calling “ What is the matter?” 
Col. Barton entered the room below from whence it 
came, and saw a man just rising out of bed, and clap¬ 
ping him on the shoulder asked him if he was Gen. 
Prescott? He answered “ Yes, Sir!” The Colonel then 
told him he was his prisoner: he rejoined, u I acknowl¬ 
edge it, Sir.” The Colonel then desired him to hurry. 
He requested leave to put on his clothes; the Colonel 
told him “a very few, for their business required haste.” 
In the mean time, Major Barrington, the General’s aid- 
de-camp, finding the house was attacked, leaped out of 
the window, and was immediately made prisoner. Af¬ 
ter the General had got on a few clothes, they marched 
away for the shore. In order to make the General 
keep up with them, Col. Barton made him put one arm 
over his shoulder and another over another officer’s, and 
in this manner with Major Barrington and the sentinel 
in the middle of the party, they arrived at the boats, 
where they put the General’s coat on him and seated 
him in No. 1. The General seeing the five small boats 
and knowing where the shipping lay, appeared much 
confused, and asked Col. Barton if he commanded the 
party? Upon being answered in the affirmative he said, 
U I hope you ivill not hurt me .”—Col. Barton assured 
him “ while in his power he should not be injured.” 

After they had got a short distance from the shore, 
they heard the alarm, three cannons, and saw three sky¬ 
rockets. It was fortunate for them that the enemy on 
board the shipping could not know the occasion of it, as 
they might with ease have cut off their communication 
with the main.* 

*lt lias been erroneously stated that the party of light horse sta¬ 
tioned at some distance from the house, rushed down upon them, 
just as they pushed from the shore. 


APPENDIX. 


309 


They rowed at no small rate, for upon landing at 
Warwick Neck at day-light, the place from whence they 
started, they discovered they had been gone from there 
but just six hours and a half. The General as he land¬ 
ed turned to Col. Barton and said, “ Sir, you have made 

a d-d bold push to night.” He replied “ we have 

been fortunate.” The General and his aid were then 
permitted to retire for rest, while Col. Barton sent to 
Warwick town for a horse and chaise and orders for the 
best breakfast that could be procured. An express was 
then sent to Major Gen Spencer, at Providence, who 
immediately sent a coach to conduct the General prison¬ 
er to Providence.! 

—©©©— 

Address to Sailors , especially to those of the American 
Navy. 

" What meanest thou, 0 sleeper] Arise, call upon thy God.” 

When I commenced the preceding Memoirs, (more 
than two years ago,) I had the impression that if I 
should succeed in getting them printed, some of the 
copies might fall into your hands; and designed to close 
my narrative with an address to you; humbly beseeching 
that God whose mercy has abounded towards me, one 
of the chief of sinners, and who has given me a hope of 
eternal life through Jesus Christ, that he would also 
bless my feeble efforts to the promotion of your spiritu¬ 
al good. Should you be disposed to read my narrative, 
you willl discover that I have had some personal ac¬ 
quaintance with the maxims and habits of sailors in the 
American and British navies, both on board privateers 
and in the merchants’ service. My early attachment to 
sailors yet remains. I know that they are patriotic, brave 
and generous almost to a fault; and it may with propriety 
be said that they defy danger. Their peculiar situation al¬ 
most precludes them from the privileges of religious 
society. The time has been when it might be said of 
us, that c ‘ no man cared for our souls;” and it is a mel- 

fGen Prescott was afterwards exchanged for Gen. Lee. There 
was certainly no parallel between the two captures ot tire two 
Generals; as Lee was quartered full twenty miles from his army, 
with only a handful of attendants near him. Prescott in sight of 
a body of light horse and in view of his shipping. 



310 


APPENDIX. 


ancholy truth, that we hare been regardless of their sal¬ 
vation ourselves. It is a fact, many of us have been so 
notoriously wicked as to insult the great Captain of sal¬ 
vation, by challenging him to destroy our souls. With 
shame I confess that I have been thus vile, and yet God 
has spared me even unto old age. Where sin abound¬ 
ed, grace hath much more abounded, through the 
blood of Jesus Christ, and not to me only, but to many 
other sailors of my acquaintance. “ There is forgiveness 
with him,” even for sailors, ‘-that he may be feared.” 

There has been a material change in society w ithin 
the last thirty years. There are now many, very many, 
who pray for the salvation of sailors, both in Europe 
and America. Bible societies have done much; the 
bethel flag has been unfurled in the principal ports of 
England and America. 

Many tracts have been written to attract your at¬ 
tention, improve your morals and excite in you a pro¬ 
per concern for the salvation of your souls. The au¬ 
thors of those tracts, whether converted seamen or pious 
landsmen, that they might more readily excite your at¬ 
tention, have illustrated important truths, in term phra¬ 
ses, familiar to sailors. 

I cannot feel less interested in your welfare than oth¬ 
ers. Permit me then to remind you, that the period can¬ 
not be far remote when your “ dust must return to the 
earth as it was, and your spirits must return to God who 
gave them.” Unless you are “ born again, you cannot 
see the kingdom of God.” I beseech you not to trifle 
with these important truths. You are exposed to un¬ 
healthy climates, the perils of the sea and dangers of 
battle. 

“ The living know that they shall die,” saitli Solo¬ 
mon. Eccl. ix. 5. And we are told by Paul, that “ it is 
appointed for men once to die, and after death the 
judgment.” Heb. ix. 27. “For we shall all stand be¬ 
fore the judgment seat of Christ.” Korn. xiv. 10. 

“ The ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sin¬ 
ners in the congregation of the righteous.” Ps. i. 5. 

Inasmuch, then, as we must all die and come to judg¬ 
ment, is it not useless to insult the Judge? Useless did 
I say ? it is presumptuous, it is criminal. Could sailors 


APPENDIX. 


311 


expect their officers to bear with them if they should 
treat them with such insolence as they frequently man¬ 
ifest towards Almighty God, who has expressly told u# 
in the third commandment, “the Lord will not hold him 
guiltless that taketh his name in vain.” 

Intemperance is another vice, to which many sailors 
are addicted. The consequence is frequently immedi¬ 
ate death, usually the loss of character and health, often 
of the vessel and crew. The practice of the various vi¬ 
ces which prevail among sailors, “ drown them in des¬ 
truction and perdition.” 1 Tim. vi. 9. The scriptures 
declare that “ no unclean person hath any inheritance 
in the kingdom of Christ and of God.” 

Shipmates, we must become subjects of the kingdom, 
or we shall never fetch the port of eternal safety, and let 
go our anchors within the vail, that is the holy place or 
heaven. The voyage cannot be made in any other vessel 
than the ark of safety, which is Jesus Christ. Brother 
sailors, will you not endeavor to get a birth on board this 
vessel, which will ensure you a safe passage to heaven 
and eternal felicity. You have run large or before the 
wind quite too long already. You cannot weather the 
cape of good hope, without beating against wind and tide, 
or in other words, without repentance toward God, and 
faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 

Bear a hand then, my good fellows, and stand by to 
about ship. Repentance, my brethren, is like beating 
against wind and tide. It must be exercised with a hum¬ 
ble reliance on the merits of Jesus, resisting the world, 
the flesh and the devil. 

And a hundred to one, but you will make some lee¬ 
way after all; but if you mind well your compass the 
Bible, and keep a good look out and a good helm, you 
will shortly have both wind and tide in your favor. 

Brethren, both officers and sailors, permit me to re¬ 
commend to you the Bible, because it is the word ! 'of 
God. Read it frequently, and pray to God that he 
w ill give you an understanding. Remember that in the 
New Testament, God speaks to us by his Son Jesus 
Christ. In it he testifies unto us that “ By one man sin 
entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death 
hath passed upon all men, for that all have sinned and 
come short of the glory of God.” 


312 


APPENDIX. 


My brethren, we are all by nature the children of 
wrath, condemned already, and the wrath of God abideth 
upon all who are yet in unbelief. We must be born a- 
gain, that is, we must have a new heart. Jesus came 
into the world to seek and to save that which was lost: 
that we may be saved, he has told us to repent and be¬ 
lieve the gospel, and that except we repent we shall per¬ 
ish. You must deny yourselves, and take up the cross. 
You must restrain your tongues; you must restrain your 
passions. Hear a word from the Apostle James, my 
brethren. 

“Behold also the ships, which though they be so great, 
and are driven of fierce winds, yet they are turned by a 
very small helm, whithersoever the governor listeth. 
Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth 
great things. Behold how great a matter a little fire 
kindleth. And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity, 
so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the 
whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature, and 
is set on fire of hell. The tcngue can no man tame, it 
is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison; therewith bless 
we God, even the Father, and therewith curse we men 
who are made after the similitude of God; out of the 
same mouth^proceedeth blessing and cursing. My breth¬ 
ren, these things ought not so to be.” 

I venture to say, brethren, if you properly restrain 
your tongues, you will not find it very difficult to restrain 
the wicked propensities of the heart. Will you not read 
those various little tracts which are sent you? Will you 
not remember the Sabbath day, and whenever the Beth¬ 
el flag is displayed, will you not go and endeavor to get 
your shipmates to go where prayer is wont to be made? 
Will you not improve all the opportunities you have, to 
hear the gospel preached, and look unto God by prayer 
and supplication with thanksgiving? Remember that 
Jesus has told us, “ If ye who are evil, know how to give 
good gifts to your children, how much more will your 
heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them who ask 
him?” May God graciously grant that you be no more 
, strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints 
ancUifthe household of God. So prays your shipmate, 
1 D „ 1 ANDREW SHERBURNE. 

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